


Sebastian's Bitch

by lilinas



Series: Sebastian's Bitch [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: 24/7 Dynamic, BDSM, Breathplay, Chastity Device, Cock & Ball Torture, Dom!Sebastian, Dom/sub, It's just a big old bdsm thing, M/M, Milking, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Punishment, Sharing, Sub!Kurt, anything could happen, but it's really minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-04-15 02:12:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4589115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilinas/pseuds/lilinas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The life and times of Sebastian Smythe and his irresistible submissive bitch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Morning, Bitch

**Author's Note:**

> This is harder than what I normally write so heed the tags!

Kurt woke up slowly, no insistent alarm in his ear – weekend, his brain supplied in explanation – and took stock of his situation as he always did. He was in the bed; that wasn’t unusual. He had a pallet on the floor at the foot of the big oak bed frame but he was rarely made to use it. Sebastian, despite all appearances to the contrary, was a cuddler and loved to fall asleep with his hand wrapped around Kurt’s caged cock, reminding them both of his unopposed ownership of that and every other part of Kurt’s anatomy. But sometime in the night Sebastian’s hand had dropped away and now it rested lower, against Kurt’s bent thigh. They were still curled tightly together, Sebastian spooning Kurt, his cock resting against the crack of Kurt’s ass. It was soft, though, so Sebastian was still asleep and Kurt could continue his inventory.

He stretched fingers and toes, anything he could move without disturbing Sebastian, checking himself for bruises or sore spots. Sometimes, when they went especially hard, Kurt woke up aching all over and it was good to know what kind of movement he needed to avoid before he climbed out of bed to start his morning duties. But last night Sebastian had been tired, he hadn’t even fucked Kurt, despite Kurt’s eloquent pleadings, so now the only ache he had to endure was the ever-present one in his groin. Which he hardly noticed anymore.

No, that wasn’t right. He was constantly aware of the hot, pressing need. It was like a living thing, curling inside him every minute of every day, waking at times to surge down his cock until the unyielding bars of steel forced it back, damming it up to overflow into his belly and his thighs and curl dormant again until its next inevitable attempt. He was just as constantly aware of his balls, which would pull tight and hard as rocks against his body until his exhausted muscles couldn’t support them anymore and they dropped to hang, pendulous and full, swinging obscenely between his thighs. It was wrong to say he wasn’t aware. Kurt’s frustrated desire was the center and driving force of everything he and Sebastian did together.

Unremarkable. That was a better word. None of it was _worth_  noticing, because there was nothing Kurt could do about it and nothing Sebastian chose to do about it. He’d known from the start, from their very first meeting, that if he entered into this …  _thing_  … with Sebastian he could pretty much kiss any kind of orgasmic release goodbye.  _I’m not one of those doms who rewards his subs with orgasms_ , Sebastian had told him,  _your reward for good service is to be allowed to continue to serve. Your body exists to give me pleasure so you only come if for some reason it will please me to let you. And most of the time it won’t._  Sitting across the table from Sebastian in the dark club, with the challenge of those words shining in Sebastian’s eyes, Kurt’s brain had recoiled. But his cock had surged so hard that when he peeled off his pants later that night he found the imprint of the zipper pressed deep into this skin.

And so here he was. Curled into Sebastian’s body and throbbing against the bars of his cage, just like every morning. Mornings were the hardest. At some point during the months he’d been kept under almost constant lock and key, Kurt’s cock had realized that trying to get hard was futile, useless, and painful and now it almost always stayed obediently flaccid, no matter how desperately turned on the rest of Kurt’s body became. As soon as the cage came off it roared at light speed to full and glorious erection, but the moment the lock clicked back into place it bowed to Sebastian’s wishes with surprising alacrity. Kurt was grateful for the small mercy. Weird as it was to feel like he was teetering on the very brink of orgasm while his cock hung soft and useless and didn’t so much as twitch, at least he was spared the added pain of his flesh trying to force itself through the tiny openings between the bars.

Except in the morning. The morning wood instinct was so primitive even months of training couldn’t stop it. Every morning Kurt woke to the extra pain and pressure – and every morning Sebastian, with his uncanny ability to zero in on Kurt’s weaknesses, found a way to take advantage of it. Even asleep. Although Sebastian still didn’t stir, his cock, prompted by its own primitive instinct, began to swell against the crack of Kurt’s ass.

Kurt sucked in a breath and held it, twisting one hand in the sheets to keep himself still. He longed to rut back against the increasingly hard pressure but it wasn’t allowed, he wasn’t allowed to move at all until Sebastian woke up and told him to. He certainly wasn’t allowed to seek out any kind of stimulation without Sebastian’s explicit permission. The thickening cock, so close to where he needed it, was the cruelest of teases. With all the usual forms of sexual release forbidden to him, his ass was everything, the insatiable source of the only pleasure Sebastian regularly allowed him. The longer he was denied the more he needed to be fucked, often, and hard, it was like scratching an ever-present itch deep inside him and though he knew the itch would still be there once the fucking was over, he craved the pure, mind-numbing relief that he couldn’t get any other way. Which Sebastian knew and exploited in every possible way.

And speak of the devil, a loud breath blew against Kurt’s neck and the hand on Kurt’s thigh twitched, stretched, then moved deliberately to wrap around his swollen balls. The cock, fully erect now, slid between Kurt’s ass cheeks, grazing his hole in a tantalizing reminder of what could be, but wasn’t. Yet. Kurt fisted the sheet until his hand ached and forced himself to stay still, but he couldn’t suppress his moans as Sebastian teased him with fingers on his balls and cock so close to where Kurt wanted it. Fortunately, sounds were almost always allowed. Sebastian liked to hear him moan, and beg, and cry. His fingers squeezed Kurt’s balls until Kurt could feel precome pooling around the opening at the end of his cage. Sebastian noticed it immediately, of course, and gathered it up on a fingertip which he raised to Kurt’s mouth. That was another of Sebastian’s unbreakable rules. Anything that leaked from Kurt’s cock, Kurt had to clean up. With his tongue. Obediently, he opened his mouth and licked the tangy fluid from Sebastian’s warm finger, suckling at it until Sebastian pulled it away and rubbed it, spit-slick, over one of Kurt’s already erect nipples.

He cuddled closer, rewarding Kurt for his obedience with a harder poke at his hole, and pressed his lips to Kurt’s ear. When he spoke his voice was both sleep-heavy and pleasure-rough in a way that sent electricity tingling down Kurt’s spine.

“Morning, bitch.”


	2. Purr For Me, Bitch

Sebastian didn’t much care what Kurt called him, which Kurt appreciated because he was never really sure himself what title he wanted to use. Sometimes _Master_ sat heavy on his tongue, the only word that fit, but at other times it was the last thing he wanted to say. _Sir_ came out a lot, especially when Kurt was being tormented or punished in some way. When he was being fucked it was almost always _Sebastian_ he pleaded to for more, harder, deeper. Kurt wasn’t sure he wanted to examine too closely the reasons he used the words that he did. And Sebastian never pushed him to.

But there was only one name Sebastian ever used for Kurt. _Bitch_. And when he spoke it hot and heavy in Kurt’s ear it made him shiver with desire. It shouldn’t, he should hate it, but the fact that he should and didn’t only turned him on more. And Sebastian seemed to mean it in every possible sense of the word. Sometimes it was bitch in heat, desperate for any touch, and sometimes it was bitch beneath his feet, to be used just as Sebastian wanted. But more often, Kurt suspected, Sebastian meant it in its classic sense. That Kurt himself was a bitch, difficult, challenging, and oppositional. And Sebastian was the only one who could tame him.

Sebastian’s bitch.

It made his blood boil. Another thing Kurt didn’t want to examine too closely.

Sebastian’s finger was still stroking over Kurt’s nipple, his lips pressed kisses to the back of his neck and his cock glided against his hole with nowhere near enough force.

“Please,” Kurt moaned. It was taking every ounce of willpower he had to hold still.

“Please what?”

Kurt hated to beg. Sebastian knew that. Which was why Sebastian without fail forced him to beg for everything.

“Can I move? Please can I . . . ?” Kurt couldn’t quite bring himself to finish the question.

“Hump my cock?” Sebastian provided helpfully, hot in his ear.

Kurt knew he wouldn’t get it unless he said it. “Please can I hump your cock?” he forced out, his face flooding with humiliated heat.

Sebastian pinched his nipple, hard. “Go for it, bitch.”

Kurt didn’t wait to be told twice. He arched his ass back hard against Sebastian, moaning with pleasure this time. His free arm reached behind him to wrap around Sebastian’s neck, trying to hold him in place. It wasn’t nearly enough, but the rough slide and catch of Sebastian’s cock against his hole was the most stimulation he’d gotten in what felt like forever and he rutted mindlessly, hoping the friction would entice Sebastian to want more, to want to shove inside him, he’d take it dry if he had to he just needed to be _filled_ . . .

Much too soon Sebastian’s hand gripped Kurt’s hip and his voice growled, “Stop.”

Against every instinct he possessed, Kurt forced his body still. He bit back his last moan before it could turn into a wail. He wasn’t allowed to complain. “Thank you,” he whimpered, because he was always expected to be grateful for any liberties Sebastian allowed him.

“I’ll overlook the whiny tone of that ‘thank you,’” Sebastian said, pulling back and flipping Kurt face-down on the bed, “since I know how desperate you are.”

“Thank you,” Kurt mumbled again, into the pillow. He made very sure to keep any trace of a whine from his voice.

Sebastian laughed and stroked a finger up and down Kurt’s spine, leaving shivery goosebumps as he went. “It’s okay, little bitch. I’m going to give you what you want. Eventually. If you beg hard enough.”

Kurt arched his back under Sebastian’s caress, tilting his ass high in the air, wantonly, shamelessly, hoping his wordless begging would be enough. But Sebastian’s fingers stopped just short of the crack of his ass and his hand folded into a fist, knuckles digging into Kurt’s tailbone, into the very particular spot that always drove Kurt crazy; so close but not close enough. Kurt went wild under his hand, arching like a cat against the pressure, moaning so deep in his chest that it was more of a growl, and behind him Sebastian’s laugh got louder and his knuckles ground still harder against Kurt’s ass.

“That’s it. Purr for me, bitch. You have no idea how much that turns me on.”

“Please . . .” Kurt gasped into the pillow, rocking against the pressure so, so close to his hole.

“Yes?”

There was really no sense pretending he wasn’t going to beg for it. “Please fuck me. Please, it’s been so long.”

“It’s been two days.” The laugh was still warm in Sebastian’s voice. “Not even. It’s been thirty-six hours.”

“Please. Oh God, _yes_ ,” Kurt moaned as Sebastian’s probing knuckles slipped down closer, so close, to his hole. “Please. Please, I need it so much . . .”

The knuckles disappeared. Kurt froze, his heart plummeting, his mistake echoing in the air between them.

Sebastian’s reaction was immediate. He flipped Kurt onto his back, effortlessly, straddling his legs and trapping his hands above his head in a harsh grip. His cock, long, hard, free, pressed against the cage; Kurt could feel its heat against his flesh straining between the bars.

“You what?” Sebastian raised one dangerous eyebrow.

Kurt pressed his hands into the mattress, perfectly still, the picture of obedience. “I’m sorry,” he said as softly as he could.

“You _need_ it?”

Begging was a tricky thing with Sebastian. Kurt was allowed to plead for things. He was never allowed to imply that he deserved them, though. Or that he had any needs or desires that Sebastian was in any way obligated to consider.

There was no denying he’d said it, so he only stared up at Sebastian, trying to look contrite.

“Who decides what you _need_ , bitch?”

“You do. Only you.”

“That’s right.” Sebastian’s eyes narrowed but he smiled and dipped his head to brush his lips against Kurt’s. Before Kurt had a chance to hope that the kiss meant he hadn’t completely ruined everything, though, Sebastian was murmuring against the corner of his mouth, “So much for getting fucked this morning.”

Kurt nuzzled his face against Sebastian’s jaw, licked at the stubble there, a cat again, begging for favors. “Please, I’m so sorry, I fucked up, I know I don’t deserve it but . . . _please_ . . .” He poured every ounce of longing in every cell of his frustrated, denied body into that _please_ , drawing it out with a long, trembling note, just the kind of begging Sebastian loved.

Sebastian sat up. He let go of Kurt’s hands but Kurt kept them where they were, obedient to the end.

“Don’t even try it, bitch.” Sebastian was still smiling. “Thanks to you, now I have to use the time I was going to spend fucking you to figure out how I’m going to punish you instead.”


	3. Poor Bitch

Banished to the bathroom, Kurt brushed his teeth and used the toilet with the sounds of Sebastian moving around the bedroom providing the background track, every bump or slide of a drawer plucking his already tight-strung nerves. He was still shaking with need from Sebastian’s teasing, and the ever-present humiliation of having to sit down to pee, thanks to the cage. Lately Sebastian had been threatening to buy him a new one, with a urethral insert, so he’d have to beg Sebastian to remove it every time he needed to go, and wait for Sebastian to decide when he was desperate enough. Which was not something Kurt should be thinking about when he needed his cock to soften enough that he could relieve himself.

When he finally came out of the bathroom he stopped short at the sight of Sebastian sitting cross-legged on the bed, his gorgeous body still naked, his cock jutting up proudly, surrounded by the implements of Kurt’s punishment: a jumble of leather that Kurt knew was their harness, designed to keep something in his ass, and the object that Sebastian had decided he’d be impaled on. Kurt’s guts twisted when he saw it. The long, slim vibrator that Kurt hated with every fiber of his being.

Kurt stood still as a statue, eyes glued the eight inches of bright orange torture sitting so innocently next to Sebastian’s bare thigh. “Please.” He tried to hold it in; he knew it would only get him in more trouble, but his brain took over and begged anyhow. “Please, Sebastian –”

“Awww. Are you begging me to punish you? What a good bitch.” Sarcasm weighed down every word. Eyes on Kurt, Sebastian wrapped one hand around his own cock and stroked it, just because he could, just to show Kurt how much his distress was appreciated.

“I don’t . . . I can’t . . .” Kurt fumbled for words. He should be taking the out Sebastian was offering him. He was very much not allowed to ask for mercy. Ever. But the vibe . . . Kurt knew how this would go. Hour after hour of the unbearable, unreachable tickle, hard when Kurt wanted it to be soft, soft when he craved hard, thanks to Sebastian’s unerring hand on the remote. Building and building, buzzing relentlessly against his most sensitive places, driving the need until Kurt wasn’t even human anymore, just a creature of lust and hunger, an animal, humping the air like it would do him any good, completely at the mercy of an inanimate _thing_. By the end he would be crawling, babbling, begging Sebastian for relief.

From the bed Sebastian cleared his throat, a sharp sound in the quiet room. Kurt met his eyes, which lowered deliberately to Kurt’s caged cock. Kurt looked down to find a shining string of fluid dribbling from his soft cock to puddle on the hardwood floor. Of course. He suppressed a sigh and knelt, dipping his tongue into the pool, lapping at the fluid. He had a feeling he was going to be in this position a lot today.

It didn’t matter anyhow. Nothing Kurt could say would move Sebastian. There was only one word that would ever have any effect on his dominant, and as hard as Sebastian pushed him each and every day, Kurt had never yet found the place where he really, truly needed to say it.

“Ooh, don’t move. Stay just like that.”

Kurt kept his face to the floor, his ass high in the air. Behind him the bed creaked as Sebastian climbed off. Kurt let his ass wiggle a little while he licked up the last traces of his cock’s betrayal. It couldn’t hurt to remind Sebastian of exactly how willing he was to be taken. At the very least he hoped for fingers first, Sebastian’s long and agile fingers, stretching him, teasing over his prostate, so fucking sensitive after months of strict chastity. But though he could tell Sebastian had dropped to the floor beside him, no touch came. Instead the vibrator buzzed to life, unexpectedly close to his ear, and he flinched away from it before he could stop himself.

“Poor bitch,” Sebastian said, “you really don’t like this thing, do you?”

Kurt thought carefully before he spoke. He turned his head so he could see Sebastian - his cheek pressed to the damp spot he’d left on the floor – and let his bottom lip push out in a very tiny pout. “I don’t like anything that’s not your cock. Nothing else can fill me up the way I . . .” He stopped just shy of the forbidden _need_ ; let it hang unspoken between them.

Sebastian’s eyes darkened just as Kurt had hoped they would. He tilted the vibe so that it brushed Kurt’s protruding lip. Kurt held Sebastian’s gaze and let his lips fall open, licking tentatively at the rounded plastic tip.

“Good answer,” Sebastian said. His expression didn’t change, it was all impassive control, but the spark in his eyes and deep weight in his voice betrayed his excitement. He pushed the vibe past Kurt’s lips; stroked it buzzing along his tongue.

Kurt closed his eyes and moaned around the plastic intrusion. He let his tongue slip out so Sebastian could see it fellating the underside of the orange shaft. It was a show, the best he could produce under the circumstances. If he was very lucky Sebastian would decide that Kurt’s eager tongue could be put to much better use on _his_ shaft, and once Kurt had Sebastian’s cock in his mouth, well, he was certainly talented enough to make him come so hard that little things like disobedience and punishment flew right out of his head.

But alas, Sebastian was not to be deterred. He pushed the vibe deeper into Kurt's mouth, once, twice, twisting as he went. Normally gag reflex was not a phrase in Kurt’s vocabulary but he'd never been throat-fucked with something vibrating before and his muscles rebelled. He had to force himself to stay open and take it without a struggle. Fortunately Sebastian only thrust twice, just enough to lubricate it. Then it disappeared from his mouth and he felt the quivering tip probe at his exposed hole.

So much for stretching. Kurt sighed, resigned to his fate, and concentrated on unclenching his ass. He didn't really need the stretch. If he was being honest, he didn't even need the moisture Sebastian had so thoughtfully provided. The vibe wasn't anywhere near big enough to be a challenge for him. That was the whole point. Anything that stretched him might also give him some twisted form of frustrated pleasure, and that would never do. This was meant to be torture, plain and simple.

Sebastian shoved the vibrator home and Kurt grunted in spite of his dismissal of its size. The familiar sensation rolled through his body immediately, buzzing shallow then deeper as his walls picked up the vibration and carried it beyond the vibrator's reach. His ass flexed and clenched, already out of his control; the orange monster tickle-teased the exact spot that longed to be pounded instead.

He expected Sebastian to affix the harness that would keep his tormentor in place but he stayed where he was. Kurt heard a tiny click and the vibe sped up, then another, and another. Bit by bit Sebastian ratcheted up to full speed, until Kurt could feel his whole body vibrating around the hateful thing. He gasped into the floor, each exhale catching in his throat until it was forced out with a thoroughly undignified grunt. Not that there was any dignity to be found in groveling on the floor with his ass pistoning in Sebastian’s face and his cock streaming yet another puddle for him to lick up later.

Hands landed on his ass cheeks and rode them as they rocked up and down.

“What a desperate, needy bitch I have.” Arousal filled Sebastian’s voice; Kurt could hear it and it only made his own desire more intense.

“Well what do you expect . . . after 93 days . . . ,” Kurt ground out between clenched teeth, “ . . . without an orgasm?”

“Only 93? That’s barely three months.” Sebastian chided.

“Says the man . . . who gets grumpy if . . . he doesn’t come at least . . . twice a day.”

Sebastian moved swiftly, covering Kurt’s shuddering body with his own and breathing into Kurt’s ear. “That, my dear bitch, is exactly the point.” Then he moved back again and grasped the vibe by the base, tilting it down so that it pressed unexpectedly forceful against Kurt’s tender prostate gland.

The change was instantaneous, from buzzing torture to blinding pleasure; it flooded his body, swelling out from his ass in exquisite waves. A cry tore from Kurt’s throat and he shoved himself back, fucking onto the suddenly wonderful vibrator. Sebastian allowed it and more, he pushed even harder, ground the droning plastic into Kurt’s sweetest spot, and Kurt forgot that Sebastian had called this punishment, forgot everything except the delicious burn deep inside him, radiating ecstatic heat in all directions.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he panted into the floor, in time with his backward thrusts, “Oh _God_ , thank you . . .”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Sebastian said, and he shoved even harder, nailing Kurt’s prostate with brutal pressure.

Kurt was too lost in the inexorable climb toward his long-denied release to hear Sebastian’s warning. Or to remember that there could be no release for him, not in the cage, no matter how savagely Sebastian tried to force it from him. All he could feel was bliss; delirious, rapturous. Like water to a man dying of thirst it poured through him and carried him away. His fingers grappled for purchase on the floorboards and he moaned when they found none.

“Please,” he begged Sebastian in broken syllables, “my hands . . .” He needed something to hold onto or he might break apart.

Sebastian let go of the vibrator long enough to pull both of Kurt’s arms back, pinning them to the small of his back with one strong hand while the other resumed the buzzing assault on Kurt’s ass.

“Thank you,” Kurt managed weakly, before his throat closed again and he surrendered to glorious sensation.

It built and built inside him, ecstatic pleasure, rushing to a peak. He could see it looming; shudders wracked his body and, beyond speech now, he mewled his gratitude there on the floor as his balls clenched with vicious power and three months of brilliant sexual torture finally, _finally_ coalesced into an infinite point of singularity, holding him in the excruciating moment of ultimate expectation.

The excruciating _infinite_ moment of expectation, because of course his cock still cringed, pathetically obedient in its cage; Kurt could feel the hot slide of fluid moving like sludge up his urethra and a sob strangled in his throat as reality slammed back into him as violently as the vibrator impaling his prostate. He wasn’t going to come. His balls could seize all they wanted; the vibe could torture his prostate until he passed out. But his body would hang, trembling on the edge of release, longing for it, straining impotently after it, for as long as it pleased Sebastian to keep him there. Then he’d be left, bereft, overwhelmed, ravenous, to watch Sebastian come instead.

The vibe twisted inside him and, as if in final resignation, the slit of his cock gaped open and released a long, hot dribble of semen; it oozed onto the floor in a miserable parody of the explosion his body craved.

After that there was only pain. He collapsed, boneless, to the floor, his ass on his heels, his body trembling under Sebastian’s hand. The burning need to come never faded; Kurt dangled over that edge as his balls convulsed futilely, over and over again, sending gout after gout of fluid dripping to the floor. Tears coursed freely down his face; sobbing was the closest thing to a release he was unrestrictedly allowed. And still Sebastian ground the vibe against him, determined to milk every ounce of those 93 days of pent-up semen out of his cowering dick.

It seemed to take forever. He whimpered and whined; he tried to shift away at one point when the pain threatened to overwhelm him, but Sebastian was relentless and worked Kurt’s prostate until he was dry. And still his balls clenched, desperate to do the job that millions of years of evolution had designed them for.  The slit of his cock opened and closed, spasmodically, in time with each painful squeeze in his scrotum, but there was nothing left to expel, no matter how hard his body tried to force more out.

When Sebastian finally pulled out the vibe and released him Kurt’s arms fell to the floor on either side of his body. He trembled helplessly; he couldn’t have moved if his life had depended on it. Everything ached. Everything needed. Everything burned.

“Now you can thank me,” Sebastian purred.

“Thank you.” Kurt’s voice sounded small, far away from where he lay watching the forbidden orgasm fade back into impossibility.

“Nice try.” Sebastian’s fingers touched Kurt’s spine and stroked up and down. “But you _will_ thank me later. Sincerely. Now move, bitch. You have quite the mess to clean up.”

Kurt’s trembling slowed under Sebastian’s caress and although he was sure his legs would never hold him up, he managed to wriggle backward until the evidence of his farce of an ejaculation slid into view. This new puddle was bigger, of course, and cloudy with his useless seed. Kurt’s balls gave one final, hopeless jerk as he dipped his tongue into the mess.

At least at this rate he wouldn’t need to worry about making himself breakfast.


	4. Words, Bitch

“You know you’re very lucky that I’m so selfish.”

 “Hmmm?” Kurt paused from dragging his tongue over the spot where his mess had been to hum in Sebastian’s direction, then went back to licking. But it was no use. There was no way to completely eradicate the stickiness with just his mouth. Hopefully Sebastian would give him time later to mop. He was just a little compulsive about the cleanliness of their floors. For obvious reasons.

“It’s true.” Behind him, Sebastian was still stroking along Kurt’s spine, not teasing now but slow and firm and although part of Kurt hated that his body responded so readily, like an animal settling under its master’s touch, most of him was just grateful for anything that helped to dial back the burning intensity. “I’m supposed to be punishing you.”

Kurt turned his head and rested his cheek on the floor. He didn’t know if it was the caressing hand or the dazed aftermath of the milking, but a gentle fog was starting to creep into his head, muffling the ferocity of his need, and his muscles were relaxing from their tight straining. Everything but his balls. They were still pulled up hard and hot, giving no sign of dropping. “That wasn’t punishment?” he asked.

“It was brilliant punishment,” Sebastian said, still stroking Kurt’s back. The gentle touch, combined with the submissive soup Kurt’s hormones had made of his brain, were giving Kurt a very uncomfortable urge to prostrate himself at Sebastian’s feet and lick them like the bitch he was. “But that’s the problem. I certainly deserve to reward myself for being such an amazing dominant. And I can’t think of a better reward than to shove that smart, irresistible mouth of yours down onto my cock and choke you with it until I shoot down your throat like a roman candle.”

Kurt whined. He couldn’t think of a better reward either. Well, maybe one better, but Sebastian had already told him he wouldn’t be getting fucked.

“The trouble is, a disobedient bitch doesn’t deserve my cock, does he?” Sebastian when on, ignoring Kurt’s tiny plea. “No, what I should do right now is jerk myself off back here where you can’t taste it, can’t even see it. Just come all over this gorgeous ass, rub it in and make you wear it all day, watch the smell drive you fucking crazy.”

His words sent new tremors fluttering in Kurt’s belly. “But . . .?” he prompted hopefully.

Sebastian didn’t take the bait. “But nothing. Don’t think I didn’t know what you were up to before, putting on a show for me with that vibrator like the desperate slut you are.”

Kurt summoned up the energy to crane his neck and look back at Sebastian. He twisted his irresistible mouth into an innocent moue. “I’m sorry,” he said. His voice sounded soft in his own ears, light, floaty. “I thought the whole point was to make me so hungry for your cock that I’d do anything to get it. Because if that wasn’t your goal you’ve gone terribly, terribly wrong somewhere.”

Sebastian laughed and scooted around so that Kurt could see him without straining. “See, this is why you’re the perfect sub. You know just what to say so that I can take what I want and still feel like I’m being responsibly strict with you.”

“I don’t think you need any help with that.”

Sebastian trailed his fingers down Kurt’s cheek and Kurt nuzzled into them. He couldn’t help it. He _was_ an animal under its master’s hand. There wasn’t any point in denying it.

Sebastian allowed the caress for a few moments then moved again, positioning himself in front of Kurt this time, on the unused pallet, his back supported by the foot of the bed. His cock was still hard, and beautiful, and close; Kurt could smell it from where he groveled on the floor and the scent made his desire for it even more acute. He knew exactly how it would taste and feel and his mouth watered in anticipation.

Sebastian watched him, eyes full of mischief. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you a chance to earn it.” He gave himself a few slow pumps, like he’d done before on the bed, until a glistening drop of fluid seeped from the tip and pooled there in his slit. Kurt tried but failed to suppress a hungry whine, which dragged out into a moan when Sebastian tipped his cock forward so the liquid trembled on the edge of the opening then slipped over, sliding wastefully down the thick shaft. Kurt tilted his head and looked up at Sebastian through his eyelashes, silently begging.

“Don’t give me the eyes. All I want right now is your mouth.”

“But you said –”

“Words, bitch.” Sebastian shook his cock at Kurt for emphasis, and Kurt could swear he felt a tiny sprinkle of that precious fluid hit his cheek. “Worship my cock with words. And if the words are good enough, I’ll let you have it for real.”

Kurt pressed his forehead to the floor and suppressed yet another sigh. Sebastian loved to do this - make him take the things that lived in the dark, hidden corners of his brain and drag them out into harsh sunlight, inspect them, put them into words. Admit to them in florid detail while Sebastian watched with burning eyes and supercilious smirk. It was unbearably humiliating . . . and overwhelmingly erotic.

“The longer you wait the closer I get to just going with the ass thing,” Sebastian said.

Kurt pushed himself up to his knees, facing Sebastian, who was still stroking himself with the exact look on his face that Kurt had imagined. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m trying to think of the right words.”

“Think faster.”

Kurt looked down at his own body, something he rarely did. He focused on his soft, abused cock squished into the tiny metal cage, imprisoned by an unconquerable lock, and felt, though he couldn’t quite see, his still-throbbing balls, trapped in unnatural position by the cage’s ring. Then he looked at Sebastian’s, standing tall, surging with arousal, free, everything Kurt longed for. Everything he desired.

“We’re all cock sluts, aren’t we?” he said at last. “All men. Even the straight ones.”

“What?” Sebastian’s smirk widened into an amused smile. That was good. Happy Sebastian granted favors.

“For our own, I mean. From the minute we figure out what they can do, we’re slaves to them. We touch them when they want to be touched, we stroke, we spend hour after hour finding the best ways to please them. They tell us when they want to come and we rush to obey them. It’s this drive, deep inside of us. Irresistible. We _have_ to run when they call us. To pleasure them. To make them come. Over and over again.”

 Sebastian slid a foot in between Kurt’s bent knees and jostled the cage with his toes. “Not all of us.”

Kurt’s own words were already turning him on; the gentle vibrations against his trapped cock made it both harder and easier to keep talking.

“That’s the point,” he breathed, fighting the urge to rut against Sebastian’s foot. “You locked up my cock. You control it. Utterly. Viciously.”

“You can say that again.”

“You don’t let me touch it; you don’t even let me _see_ it out of the cage. But the drive, the need to please it never goes away.”

Kurt’s head was starting to spin with conflicting sensations. Loose in the wake of the milking. Placid from Sebastian’s caresses. Burning from his balls and Sebastian’s teasing foot. Twinging pain from his overworked ass. It was no wonder that his own words were making him both want to hide away from the humiliation and at the same time find the most perfect, eloquent phrases to elucidate his abject submission. He raised his gaze from Sebastian’s cock to his eyes, let himself become lost in their green intensity.

“I need to serve my cock, like everyone else. But you took it away from me. It belongs to you. So now your cock _is_ my cock.”

“Careful, bitch,” Sebastian warned, moving his foot just far enough to dig his toes painfully into Kurt’s hard balls.

Kurt gasped against the pain. “I don’t mean that it belongs to me, like mine does to you,” he rushed to explain. “I mean that everything I would feel for my cock – everything _you_ feel for your cock – I feel it too.  For yours,” he clarified, and Sebastian’s toes retreated, but still brushed close enough to be a threat.

The unexpected punishment broke away the last shreds of Kurt’s resistance and words flowed faster now as he laid himself open for Sebastian’s inspection.

“When I touch it, when I see it respond to me, I can almost, _almost_ feel it. Maybe it’s memory, maybe it’s some kind of weird denial psychosis,” he huffed a little laugh, “but it echoes all around inside me. This phantom feeling of being touched, being sucked, thrusting and building and coming. It’s not pleasure, not really, but it’s something. Like remembering. Oh, that’s what a cock is supposed to do. That’s how it would feel, if you’d ever let me feel it.”

Sebastian’s toes flirted with Kurt’s balls, making him shiver. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just forget what you can’t have?” he asked.

“Maybe. But I’m not doing this because it’s easy.”

Sebastian grinned. “If you were, you’ve gone terribly, terribly wrong somewhere. Very pretty words, bitch. Except for the part where you called me a cock slut.”

But Kurt was ready for that. He rolled his hips carefully, dragging his balls against Sebastian’s toes. It hurt, but he wanted it. Sebastian’s demand had had its intended effect. He was all in now, ready once again to suffer for Sebastian in whatever way Sebastian chose.

“But you’re not,” he said softly.

“’All men are cock sluts,’ you said.”

“Not you. Never you.”

“Why am I the exception?”

Kurt pushed a little harder against Sebastian’s foot and moaned at the pain and pleasure of it. He could read Sebastian’s approval in the way his lips parted and his eyes narrowed, and it made him bold. “Because you have me. I’m your cock’s slave, so you don’t have to be.”

Sebastian ground his toes deeper into the rigid flesh of Kurt’s scrotum and dear God, it hurt, but Kurt’s body was barreling back to need from the post-milking languor and he pushed back, torturing himself for Sebastian’s pleasure.

“I’d do anything for your cock. I give it everything it demands, I worship it, when you let me. I long for it.” He was riding Sebastian’s toes now like a dungeon torture horse, but Sebastian was practically panting and his eyes burned into Kurt’s and that made everything worth it. “I live for your cock,” he leaned as close as he could, his hands itching to touch, “I bow to it, and supplicate. I crawl for it. I burn for it. I –”

Sebastian’s foot pushed up savagely, cutting Kurt off and forcing a cry from his throat. “Shut the fuck up and get your mouth on my dick.”


	5. Take It, Bitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning: this chapter contains the tiniest bit of what could be considered breath play, with Kurt voluntarily and in complete control choking himself on Sebastian's cock.

Kurt’s relationship with Sebastian was complicated. He didn’t spend a lot of time examining what they had or what they were to each other, beyond dominant and submissive. He didn’t really have time to spend examining it, what with work, domestic chores, servicing Sebastian’s cock, and the hours of teasing and torture Sebastian loved to inflict on him. He wasn’t sure they were boyfriends, although they didn’t really see anyone else. Kurt couldn’t, of course, but Sebastian, for his part, seemed to be consumed with Kurt and only Kurt. He wasn’t sure what name he would give to his feelings for Sebastian, beyond the dark craving for the way Sebastian could make him crawl. The spaces between them as Kurt and Sebastian and them as master and bitch were misshapen and indefinite. Complicated.

But Kurt’s relationship with Sebastian’s dick was as simple as it could be. He was one hundred percent stupidly head-over-heels in love with it.

So when Sebastian gave the word, Kurt fell on his cock like a starving dog with a bone. He had no time for niceties of lips or tongue. He impaled himself, swallowing it deep into the back of his throat where he needed it most – or second-most – and held it there, not moving, not breathing, just embracing Sebastian’s hard flesh with his own.

It was a beautiful cock. Kurt wasn’t a size queen, not really. He had too much of an eye for proportion to approve of the monster cocks you saw on some people’s fantasy web sites. But if he was going to worship a cock and give himself over to its mastery, he most definitely wanted it to be a cock that was worthy of Kurt Hummel’s obeisance. He’d seen doms at their club with less-than-impressive dicks and he’d pitied the boys who had to serve them. He’d accepted Sebastian’s domination dick-unseen, but he couldn’t deny he’d felt a surge of relief the first time Sebastian had stripped for him. Sebastian’s cock was longer than average, and mouth-wateringly thick, and just veiny enough that it gave Kurt’s tongue a road-map to explore, but not so much that it reminded him of one of those Star Trek aliens with the massive heads. When he swallowed it down, it sank far enough into his throat to challenge him, but not far enough that he had to make up the different with his fist. Kurt was justifiably proud of his ability to take it all.

And the sensation of it heavy in his throat was without question the second-best feeling Kurt could imagine. He held it now as his lungs began to tighten from lack of air, held it until the muscles of his throat fluttered in weak protest against the intrusion.

One of Sebastian’s hands found Kurt’s head and gripped hard in his hair, but he wasn’t holding Kurt down, no, Kurt did that all by himself, cutting off his own air to force his throat to rebel.

“Fuck, yes, bitch,” Sebastian moaned as the muscles of Kurt’s throat began to massage up and down his length. His fingers clutched Kurt’s hair in rhythmic counterpoint to the spasms, but he never pushed, never held. Kurt kept his nose pressed to Sebastian’s groin until the burning in his lungs forced him up and off, and then he rubbed his face against the hot, wet flesh as he coughed and gasped for air, marking himself with his and Sebastian’s combined scents. Sebastian’s hand stayed on Kurt’s head, moving with him as he nuzzled.

“Again,” Sebastian commanded. He was breathing as hard as Kurt was and that made Kurt’s cock drool yet more eager precome.

With one last deep breath Kurt seated himself again, nose to the soft curls of Sebastian’s pubic hair and throat tight around his thick cock. Sebastian’s ass flexed and Kurt drew back just enough so that Sebastian could thrust up and pull away, tiny movements that rode the waves of muscle spasms. They made it harder to stay open, but Kurt loved it, he loved Sebastian’s cock in his throat only slightly less than he loved it in his ass, loved the sounds Sebastian made as Kurt’s throat coaxed the orgasm from him and the powerful stretch as the thrusts shoved deeper and deeper. When lack of air forced him up again Sebastian pushed Kurt back onto his ass, then down to the floor, straddled his chest, and shoved in again, fucking in earnest in his own time, leaving Kurt to gulp air in frantic inhales on each backstroke. Kurt’s hands searched for something to hold, but Sebastian’s found them and clasped tight, pulling them over Kurt’s head and pressing them into the floor for balance as he thrust. The muscles in Kurt’s ass clenched and fucked his caged cock into nothing over and over as Sebastian used him.

Sebastian didn’t warn Kurt when he was about to come. He never did; a good slave shouldn’t need a warning. And Kurt, like the perfect slave he was, had learned to read Sebastian’s tells. His thrusts sped up, until his balls were smacking the underside of Kurt’s chin with every stroke. Kurt’s own need was alive again, twisting down the tortured paths of his body, searching for a way out where there was none. He craved Sebastian’s orgasm almost as much as he craved his own now and he hummed and tongued at Sebastian’s cock, begging it to favor him with its release.

“That’s right,” Sebastian panted above him. His eyes were blown black as he gripped Kurt’s hands and watched his heavy cock disappear into Kurt’s mouth. “Take it, bitch. Take it all and don’t you fucking swallow.”

Sebastian pulled back and froze, and Kurt sealed his lips around the iron flesh and sucked hard, flicking his tongue at Sebastian’s frenulum until he felt warm semen burst into his mouth. Sebastian came silently, motionlessly, as he always did; it was Kurt who arched up violently off the floor and moaned Sebastian’s pleasure as the cock in his mouth pulsed over and over again.

In the beginning it had been hard to remember not to swallow, despite the harsh punishments Sebastian had inflicted on him with every failure. And when he did manage to remember, he’d found the warm, slimy fluid in his mouth disgusting. He’d had to fight the impulse to gag, because that was punished as well. But Sebastian and strict denial had trained him well and now it was hard to even remember a time when he hadn’t loved the flavor of Sebastian’s come as much as he loved the cock it came from. The taste of it did something to Kurt, like flipping a switch inside him that mollified the lust creature squirming in his guts and made being Sebastian’s sex slave feel like the highest calling anyone could aspire to.  Lying on the hard floor under Sebastian’s weight with Sebastian’s now-soft cock sliding out of his mouth and Sebastian’s come sealed inside, with shivers playing tag up and down his body, Kurt was, for the second time that morning, limp as a dishrag and utterly spent.

And they hadn’t even had breakfast yet. Never let it be said that Sebastian Smythe didn’t take full advantage of a weekend.

Still straddling Kurt’s chest, Sebastian pulled his hands out of Kurt’s and ran one thumb over Kurt’s carefully sealed lips. “Look at you,” he breathed. “I can see your eyes going all unfocused. You love that, don’t you bitch?”

Kurt could only nod.

“Such a perfect bitch. You can swallow now.”

Kurt let the semen slide down his throat, but the flavor remained. He was glad he’d already brushed his teeth. He wouldn’t have to wash it away. “Thank you,” he croaked. He was always a little hoarse after a blow job. It wouldn’t last long – his throat was too accustomed to taking cock to have any real reaction anymore.  He’d be back to normal almost immediately. But maybe he played it up, just a little, because he knew how much it turned Sebastian on.

“God, I love my life,” Sebastian said. He moved back where he’d started, sitting on the pallet with his back against the bed, and grabbed Kurt’s caged cock, pulling on it until Kurt was forced to sit up and shuffle after him. “I fuck your throat and have an unbelievable orgasm, while you burn in this cage without a prayer of relief, and yet you’re the one thanking me.” He tugged at the cage until Kurt was kneeling over his lap, then ran his fingers through the slick on Kurt’s stomach where his precome had dripped. “I suppose even the world’s most perfect bitch can’t lick his own abs, so here.” He scooped up as much of the fluid as he could on three fingers then pushed them into Kurt’s mouth, adding two new flavors to the one still lingering there. Then he pulled Kurt’s head close and kissed him, invading Kurt’s mouth with his tongue and sharing the taste of their mingled essences.

Kurt’s mouth opened eagerly under Sebastian’s demanding lips. He adored making out with Sebastian. He could do it for hours, and sometimes they did, stretched on the bed or cuddled on the couch. They would devour each other’s mouths all night long, pausing only when their need overwhelmed them, so that Kurt could bring Sebastian off with his hand or mouth and Sebastian could feed Kurt his desperate cock’s leakage. Then they’d start all over again, touching and teasing. On one memorable night they’d managed four whole cycles before Sebastian fell into an exhausted sleep with Kurt’s cock squeezed in one possessive fist. Kurt had lain awake next to him and listened to him breathe and shuddered until his body finally forced him unconscious too.

This time it was only the one kiss, though, and when Sebastian surfaced for air he grinned at Kurt with sparkling eyes and squeezed his trapped dick. “Not a bad morning’s work. But now I want my breakfast. Bacon and eggs . . . and one of those smoothies you make with the fruit and yogurt. I got blueberries at the store yesterday. And after you’re done you can clean this place from top to bottom because we’re having guests tonight.”

“Guests?” Kurt asked. His belly trembled. Guests almost always meant play, and it was a given that he would be the toy.

“Yes,” Sebastian said, wiggling his eyebrows at Kurt in a suggestive leer. “It’s going to be a lot of fun. And by ‘a lot of fun’ I mean it’ll be torture for you, but fun for the rest of us.”

Kurt forced back a groan as his cock surged still more slippery fluid. Sebastian was ready for it this time; it dripped onto his open palm, which he lifted only slightly, forcing Kurt to bow forward and lick across his hand. Sebastian ruffled Kurt’s hair with his other hand like he was petting a dog. An apt metaphor, Kurt thought.

When he raised his head Sebastian gave him one more kiss then stood up. Kurt followed and headed to the door to go make the requested breakfast, but he only got halfway there.

“Crap! I almost forgot!”

Kurt turned back to find Sebastian holding the harness that had been left on the bed. The orange vibrator had rolled into a corner, forgotten, after Sebastian had abandoned it but now it was all Kurt could see. His mouth worked around the need to speak, to beg, to find a way out of the punishment he thought he’d already endured. Sebastian just watched him struggle, one expectant eyebrow arched high. In the end, though, Kurt knew it was no use. Sebastian was going to do just as he wanted. So Kurt dropped his gaze to the floor, turned around, and knelt. He lowered his head, presenting his ass to Sebastian.

Sebastian was on him instantly, stroking firm along his back like he had after the milking. “What a good bitch,” he said. Kurt could hear the genuine approval in his voice and it made his body sink even deeper into the floor, lowering himself under Sebastian as much as he could. “Don’t worry. It’s not the vibrator. I can be merciful, when I want to.”

Kurt felt something wide, blunt and slippery press at his asshole and his moan was weak with relief. It was a plug, he was sure, although he hadn’t noticed one on the bed with the harness, and as Sebastian slowly worked it into his ass he could tell it was one of their bigger ones. He pushed back to ease its passage. He loved the big plugs. Nothing was as good as Sebastian’s cock, but at least the plugs filled him, and their pressure against his walls was a kind of relief, and even pleasure, when he moved the right way.

But he realized almost immediately that today was going to be very different. He’d forgotten the beating his prostate had taken, the violence of the milking, until the plug slid over that very tender spot and pain sang sharp through his ass and up his spine. When he groaned Sebastian pressed harder, just to make Kurt whimper again. He tortured Kurt with three or four twists before he pushed the plug home and set about attaching the harness.

“Up,” Sebastian commanded when he’d gotten everything in place.

Standing up was agony. The plug rocked with every move Kurt made, but he pressed his lips together, determined not to cry out. At least it wasn’t the vibrator, he reminded himself. No matter how bad this was, the vibe would be worse.

The harness came with an optional scrotum strap, and of course Sebastian always opted to use it. He wrapped it tight between Kurt’s balls, still so hard and high, forcing them down and apart and adding to Kurt’s already significant pain level. Then he fed Kurt more of his free-flowing precome. The thought of how often he was going to have to get down to the floor and up again all day, with the plug smashing his angry prostate, made Kurt want to cry. And leak even more. He was truly doomed.

Sebastian evaluated him with a critical eye, but apparently found everything to his liking. “Well go on,” he said. “And make sure you eat too. You’re going to need your strength.”

“Yes sir,” Kurt said. He tried to make it sound bitchy, or even just sarcastic, but it came out breathless and much more genuine than he’d intended. He turned for the door, taking tiny, careful steps in a vain effort to keep the plug still.

Pain exploded as Sebastian’s hand smacked hard up under his ass cheeks, bashing the plug and shooting agony through Kurt’s body. He doubled over with a very undignified yelp.

“Stop mincing,” Sebastian commanded. Kurt could hear laughter in his voice even through the haze of pain and his own gasping breath as he tried to manage it. “You know how I feel about reinforcing negative stereotypes.”

Kurt’s brain wasn’t in a place where he could understand words of more than one syllable just at the moment, so he simply said, “Yes sir,” again, since that usually pacified Sebastian. Then he forced his legs to move, walking as normally as he could manage, pain spiking his core with every step.

“Much better, bitch,” Sebastian called after him. “And don’t forget the ketchup for my eggs.”

Kurt grimaced. Ketchup on eggs. That was almost as painful as the plug.


	6. Breathe, Bitch

It was a very long day. Kurt swept and dusted, straightened and wiped, made, served, ate and cleared both breakfast and lunch, carefully cleaned and dried the hateful orange vibrator, and every bend, stretch and twist left him breathless as his body tried to move around the solidity of the plug in his ass. That, combined with the awareness of what he was doing – playing domestic slave for Sebastian – was enough to keep Kurt careening between helpless, gasping arousal and clenching, knee-weakening pain. Add to that the memory of why he was in pain – the humiliation of groveling under Sebastian’s hands while his release was forced out of his bound cock – and there was no chance Kurt was going to be able to calm his body down. At least a dozen times he made the long, painful journey down to the floor and back up again, to lick up the fluid that dribbled from his hungry dick. He tried to distract himself, but whenever he succeeded in keeping his thoughts on work drama or who he thought might go home next on Project Runway for longer than five minutes he’d move the wrong way without thinking and the resulting explosion of pain or pleasure, or maybe both because he wasn’t sure he could tell the difference anymore, would drag him back to awareness of his situation. And the cycle would start all over again.

Sebastian, meanwhile, ignored him, locking himself up in the bedroom after Kurt was done cleaning it to give some attention to his neglected dissertation. He only opened the door at lunch time, and then only long enough to accept the plate Kurt offered him. And even that, Sebastian’s casual indifference to how Kurt suffered for him, turned Kurt on.

By four o’clock Kurt was starting to think the urethral insert might not be such a bad idea. At least it would minimize the time he spent with his tongue on the floor. The entire apartment was shining and he had mopped himself into a corner, working backward so that he could clean up the now-constant leak from his cock as he went.  He just wasn’t sure how he was going to get back to the kitchen to put away the mop and bucket without his eager dick undoing all his hard work.

“Need some help?”

Sebastian was behind him, he’d crept up soundlessly and now wrapped an arm around Kurt’s waist and pulled him close.

“The floor!” Kurt protested, breathless as Sebastian’s hands stroked up his torso, over his nipples.

“Relax, bitch.” A foot slid up Kurt’s leg, a foot clad in a soft, presumably clean, sock.

Kurt relaxed. He leaned into Sebastian’s strong arms, an animal again, grateful for the way his master’s touch helped to ground and settle the sensations he’d been struggling with all day. Sebastian, who missed nothing, chuckled, tickling the flesh where his lips were pressed to Kurt’s neck. Always so proud of the control he had over Kurt’s body.

“I really should punish you again,” Sebastian said, and Kurt wasn’t sure if it was the movement of his lips or the words themselves that sent a shiver down his spine.

“But I did everything you told me to,” he protested.

“Really? Did I tell you to distract me with all those delicious little whimpers all day?” Sebastian’s tongue made a feathery tour around Kurt’s ear, leaving him gasping. “I barely managed to finish ten pages. Every time I’d get on a roll you’d start moaning, and I can’t concentrate on flying buttresses when my dick is hard.” He pressed said hard dick into Kurt’s ass and earned another whimper as he jostled the plug against Kurt’s aching walls.

“Just like that,” Sebastian breathed against Kurt’s neck. “All I could think about was you in here naked and straining and licking up the floor. God, I wanted to fuck you, but I had to be _responsible._ ”

Kurt could hear the playful pout in his voice. “Six hours of sexual frustration. How did you ever bear it?” he teased.

“It was agony,” Sebastian said. He rolled his hips again, sending mingled sparks of pain and need up Kurt’s spine and down his thighs.

“I bet fucking me would make you feel so much better.”

“It would. Unfortunately, that and your punishment will have to wait. We have to start getting ready.”

“Ready?”

Sebastian spun Kurt around so they were finally face to face. Their banter had been playful but Sebastian’s eyes were dark with arousal and excitement. They made Kurt shiver, deep inside his belly. His cock tried to swell despite the cage, and he winced when Sebastian wrapped a hand around it and tugged. “My guests, remember? Come on. I have a surprise for you. One I think you’re actually going to like.”

It wasn’t going to be an orgasm, Kurt told his cock, there was no way Sebastian would let him come after the way he’d fucked up that morning. Sebastian was striding across the room, still holding Kurt’s cock, and Kurt hastily propped his mop in the corner as he was pulled along by his dick, past the bedroom and into their bathroom.

The bathroom wasn’t huge, but it was bigger than you’d expect in a tiny New York apartment and it contained Kurt’s favorite thing in the whole place (after Sebastian, of course). An oversize antique claw-foot tub big enough to hold both him and Sebastian at the same time, as long as they didn’t mind squeezing and hanging long legs over the sides. Kurt didn’t mind at all. A bath with Sebastian was one of his favorite things. There was nothing that could compare to leaning back against Sebastian’s chest, floating in hot, scented water while Sebastian’s soapy hands traced sweet agony over Kurt’s captive anatomy.

But before Kurt could get too excited about the prospect, Sebastian was tucking in the full-circle shower curtain that Kurt had made shortly after he’d moved in. So whatever the surprise was, it wasn’t a bath.

Sebastian turned back to Kurt with a grin. “Close your eyes,” he said.

Kurt obeyed. There was a noise of hands on cloth, then a strangely familiar clinking sound.

“Okay, you can look.”

Sebastian was still standing in front of him, holding one hand out in front of Kurt’s bemused face. From that hand dangled a long, thin silver chain. And on the end of that chain . . . a tiny key.

Kurt’s cock surged with a sudden force that left him lightheaded. He knew if he looked down he’d see it bulging obscenely between the steel bars that contained it. But he couldn’t force his eyes away from the key, swinging gently at the end of its chain.

It was another of Sebastian’s unbreakable rules that if Kurt’s cock was free his hands were bound and his eyes were covered. And that rule had been followed without exception since the day almost eight months ago when Sebastian had first accepted Kurt’s submission and locked the cage in place. Since that day Kurt had never once seen his cock out of the cage. He could barely remember what it looked like free and proudly upstanding. But here he was, in the bathroom and unbound, with the key hanging like a promise between them. He dragged his eyes away and up to stare at Sebastian.

“I . . . I’m not . . .”

“Breathe, bitch,” Sebastian smiled.

Kurt inhaled slowly. “I’m not tied,” he managed.

“I did notice that,” Sebastian replied with a smirk. “I’ve decided you’re ready for this. No touching, obviously. But we’re going to be using your cock later and I don’t feel like dragging you around in a blindfold all night. That and I want you to see what we’re going to use it for.”

“Using?” Kurt asked, stupidly, trying to pull enough oxygen into his lungs to jump-start his stalled brain.

“Hmmm,” Sebastian hummed an affirmative. “I met a dom at the club a few weeks ago – when I was torturing your cock on the public table, remember?”

Kurt most definitely remembered. He nodded.

“And he was telling me about his two subs who love to get off with a cock in their asses. Apparently he lets them come, like, once a week.” Sebastian’s tone left no doubt of his opinion of such lenience. “But they don’t get to come on their master’s cock – at least he has some standards. So I offered him your . . . well, I would say stud services but I’m pretty sure a stud is supposed to actually ejaculate and that certainly won’t be happening.”

The room tilted off center around Kurt and he reached out desperately for Sebastian, who moved close and wrapped his arms around Kurt’s waist, steadying him. But even as his body offered support, Sebastian’s words kept Kurt off balance and dizzy.

“I guess it’s more like you’re going to be a human dildo. They’re both going to ride you until they’ve had their fill. It’ll be fun for you. Can you even remember what it’s like to be inside a hot, tight ass?”

Kurt could only shake his head.

“Relax, bitch. All you’ll have to do is lay there and enjoy it. And don’t come.”

Don’t come. After ninety-three days of chastity and constant teasing. Nothing about that was relaxing. As Sebastian well knew. He raised the key between them again with a predatory grin. “Let’s get this thing off and get in the shower.

Kurt had to grab for Sebastian again as the world went sideways. Sebastian’s hard body and Sebastian’s nimble, soapy fingers and no cage keeping him in check? Never mind the guests. Kurt wasn’t going to survive the shower.


	7. Very Nice, Bitch

The tiny click as the lock popped open sliced through Kurt’s core like the sharpest steel. He closed his eyes, instinct overpowering his desire to finally see the part of his body that at one time – before Sebastian – had been the center of his sexual existence. The only thing that kept him from clasping his hands behind his back was his fear that he’d fall over if he let go of Sebastian’s broad shoulders. He clung tight as Sebastian deftly separated the two halves of cage, pulling off the restricting bars but leaving the ring that held Kurt’s balls snug against the base of his cock.

He was hard immediately, and that threw him even more off balance. Sebastian had removed the cage often enough in the past eight months, to tease or torment or outright torture Kurt’s cock, depending on the whim of the moment. But for all but a handful of those times Kurt had been horizontal – tied to the bed, inclined on a cross at the club, always restrained on some flat or nearly flat surface. Now the unfamiliar weight of the erection jutting out from his pelvis threatened to topple him over. He couldn’t imagine walking like this – with it bouncing lewdly in front of him.

Sebastian was laughing at him. He didn’t make a sound, but Kurt could hear the strain of suppressing it in the pattern of his breathing.

“Don’t you want to look?”

Kurt didn’t answer and he didn’t open his eyes.

Sebastian’s lips brushed his ear. “You looking at it isn’t going to make it any less mine,” he whispered.

As usual, Sebastian understood Kurt’s submission better than Kurt did himself. Kurt didn’t even realize until Sebastian said it that that was exactly what he feared. It had been a process; submitting his body to Sebastian had been easy but submitting his mind, his emotions, his very sense of self had taken time and patience and so very many excruciating punishments. Sebastian had earned every bit of psychological territory he’d taken. And for Kurt, his chastised cock was the ultimate symbol of Sebastian’s dominance. Kurt wasn’t sure he wanted to look at it, standing up and free, the way he’d been able to any time he’d wanted before Sebastian had taken ownership.

“Open your eyes, bitch.”

And just as usual, what Kurt wanted didn’t matter in the slightest. He opened his eyes to find Sebastian’s twinkling with his suppressed laughter. He kept his gaze on them until Sebastian deliberately lowered his own gaze to Kurt’s groin, then back up again in a silent command that Kurt had no choice but to obey.

He was very glad he was still clinging to Sebastian’s shoulders. His cock was huge – at least it seemed that way to him after months of only seeing it restrained and tiny. The size of it, pushed even farther forward by the cage ring and the harness straps around his balls, exacerbated the off-balance sensation. It throbbed angry red and was already adorned by a shining thread of leaking precome. And Sebastian was right. It didn’t feel like it was his at all. Kurt felt completely disconnected from it, like someone else’s heavy, turgid cock had been stuck onto his body in place of his cringing, caged flesh.

“Breathe,” Sebastian warned, and Kurt, who hadn’t realized that he wasn’t, sucked air into his suddenly burning lungs.

If the sight of his cock was dislocating, the sensation of it was as familiar to Kurt as anything could be. He pulled his eyes away so he could enjoy the feeling of it without the confusing visual. It was always such a relief to be out of the cage, even though he knew that it would only end in pain and sobbing frustration. Feeling himself stretching free was a very different thing from seeing it.

Happily, that one glace seemed to content Sebastian. “Time to get you clean,” he said with a smile.

Kurt did his best to stay still as Sebastian carefully removed the harness he was wearing, but those long fingers on his balls, so close to his cock but not close enough, not where Kurt longed to be touched, overcame even his self-control and he twitched restlessly as the harness was laid aside and the plug tugged gently out of his body.

“Easy, bitch,” Sebastian crooned as the plug came free with a lewd pop from Kurt’s ass and a cry that was equal parts pain and loss from his throat. He dropped the plug in the sink and turned to the tub.

The old tub had been outfitted with a shower and Sebastian had replaced its stationary head with a detachable one with an extra-long handle. This was ostensibly because the original head didn’t actually reach the top of Sebastian’s head, but it also came in handy when he wanted to subject Kurt to some kind of water torture: scalding hot on his ass, icy cold on his balls, Sebastian was endlessly inventive when it came to stimulating Kurt’s body. But today he left the nozzle in place and twisted the old-fashioned taps to a comfortable heat. He did it one-handed – the other was still holding onto a wobbly Kurt. He had to let go to get undressed, but he backed Kurt up first until he was leaning against the sink for support. Kurt watched as he stripped with a swift grace that did nothing to calm his fluttering heart. He loved watching Sebastian move. He loved watching Sebastian do almost anything.

He especially loved that Sebastian’s briefs fell away to reveal a gorgeous erection. Hot water, slippery soap, thick, hard cock; Kurt felt perfectly justified in hoping to finally achieve a little penetration. His ass flexed at the thought and already he was starting to feel steadier on his feet. Until he remembered that if Sebastian fucked him in the shower he’d be drilling his prostate with no cage to keep Kurt’s own cock properly obedient. The very idea made Kurt’s eyes widen with alarm.

“I wish I knew what thoughts were putting that look on your face.”

Kurt flushed guiltily. While he’d been staring at Sebastian’s cock Sebastian had apparently been staring at him. “I was thinking about you fucking me,” he said, because no suggestion from Sebastian was ever only a suggestion, “in the shower, without the cage.”

Sebastian grabbed both Kurt’s hands and pulled him close, pressing their bodies together, his cock rubbing against Kurt’s, so sensitive after its long incarceration. “And if I did that, do you think there’s a chance in hell you wouldn’t come all over yourself like a desperate, horny bitch?”

His mouth was so close and Kurt wanted him so much but he couldn’t lie. “No,” he whispered.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m not planning to fuck you, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir,” Kurt murmured, staring at that heavy, pink bottom lip.

“Ooh,” Sebastian smiled at the title, as Kurt had hoped he would. “Very nice, bitch.” He closed the distance between their mouths and kissed Kurt hard and not nearly long enough. But then he was backing up, pulling Kurt along with him, stepping over the side of the tub and into the cocoon of steam behind the shower curtain.

Since the tub was freestanding there was no wall for Kurt to lean on or be fucked against, but Sebastian’s inventiveness had solved that problem months ago. He’d anchored a hook in a stud over the tub from which he could hang whatever he chose to play with. At the moment it was a length of chain, and he lifted Kurt’s hands above his head to grasp it. The links were big enough for Kurt’s fingers to slide through them and grip tight, holding him when Sebastian let him go to grab the soap from the tray attached to the shower pipe. The warm spray from the shower hit Kurt on the back of his neck and ran down his back and over his ass.

“God, look at you,’ Sebastian breathed. His own cock was flexing almost as enthusiastically as Kurt’s as his hands worked the bar of soap into a lather. Kurt watched them, mesmerized by movements that shouldn’t have been anywhere near as erotic as they were. “I should have done this a long time ago. Don’t get me wrong, you look amazing chained to the bed, but this . . . look at that cock dance. I bet you’re dying for me to touch it.”

A moan rattled Kurt’s chest before he could speak. “Oh God, please. Please,” he begged.

Sebastian stared at Kurt with hungry eyes and Kurt’s breath caught in his throat as Sebastian raised a hand and moved it toward him. He didn’t need much. Just one soapy stroke, just to remind him how it could feel. But Sebastian merely pointed one finger and twirled it in a circle. “Turn,” he ordered.

Kurt whined his disappointment, but he obeyed.

Facing the shower head was a new kind of torment. The water hit him just below his collar bone and sluiced down his chest, around his jutting cock, teasing and trickling over his balls. It caressed him like warm breath, not enough to bring him off but enough to make him shiver with wet pleasure.

“God, I can see how hot you are,” Sebastian murmured, just loud enough to be heard over the sound of the water. “I mean literally. It’s rolling off of you. All that bottled-up desire. It’s fucking gorgeous.”

His words only fed the desire he described but still he didn’t touch and Kurt swore he could feel his body swelling, stretching out without moving to try to reach the man whose words were so effortlessly devastating his every nerve ending.

Then, finally, a finger, just the soapy tip, touching the very top of his spine and sliding down, slowly, so excruciatingly slowly. Kurt shuddered under it as it moved down his body, following the curve of his backbone to where it joined his tailbone and farther, skittering over the crack of his ass then – dear God, finally – slipping between his cheeks to probe at his hole.

“Oh please,” Kurt begged. His body moved without his permission, pushing back against that promising fingertip. He wanted more, he wanted Sebastian’s cock slamming into him, but he’d take this if this was what he could have.

“Be still,” Sebastian commanded.

Kurt forced his body back under control and was rewarded by the soapy finger slipping into his hole and sliding deep, over where his prostate burned. But then it stopped, resting heavy where Kurt longed to be stroked. The tiniest movement would do it but he didn’t dare. If he disobeyed he knew Sebastian would stop and this was the closest he’d been to being fucked all day.

“Please,” he tried again, in the most abject, submissive tone he could summon up. “It’s so good, oh, master, please . . .”

Behind him, Sebastian chuckled. But he slid his finger out and back in again, stroking deliberately in just the right way.

Kurt’s head fell back and he moaned, it wasn’t enough but it was still gorgeous, the slide of Sebastian’s finger sent waves of pleasure careening around his body, the first pure, painless pleasure that he’d felt all day.

“More, please, please just one more finger, please,” Kurt chanted.

“No.” Sebastian’s voice was close, right in his ear, but the only place their bodies touched was that finger, fucking his ass with such devastating gentleness as Kurt struggled to obey the command to keep still. “Look at you. Three months of chastity and I can take you apart with one finger. Imagine after six months. Or a year. Do you think I’d be able to make you beg like this with just words? Or a look? Don’t you want to find out?”

The finger kept moving, overwhelming him, and Kurt could only hang his head and moan.

“Do you know what I read the other day?” Sebastian went on, so casually, as if he wasn’t driving Kurt insane with just a finger. “The average male orgasm lasts nine seconds. Nine.”

And then with a suddenness that would have knocked Kurt off his feet if his grip on the chain hadn’t been so secure, Sebastian’s other hand, slippery with soap, closed around his cock and stroked, slow and long. And it was so beautiful, so rare, being held and pleasured this way, pure, perfect sensation, that tears flooded behind Kurt’s closed eyelids and forced their way out the corners.

“Would it really be worth giving up all this, just for nine seconds of pleasure? After all it took to get to this place?” Sebastian’s thumb slid over the swollen head of Kurt’s cock as if that nine seconds might actually be a possibility, but as more tears escaped his eyes Kurt stayed silent, because saying _yes_ would be a lie but saying _no_ might destroy him.

Sebastian kept stroking with both hands, slowly, keeping Kurt well back from any danger of actually losing control. “Luckily for you, that’s a decision you’ll never have to make. You have me to make it for you.”

“Thank you,” Kurt murmured fervently.

Sebastian laughed again, hot against Kurt’s ear. Then Kurt felt a third touch, Sebastian’s cock this time, also soapy, slipping between Kurt’s thighs. Kurt whimpered as the hard shaft caressed the underside of his balls and it might have been too much for even his self-control, all three sensations at once, but Sebastian withdrew both his hands and gripped Kurt’s waist instead, holding him still as he fucked between his thighs in earnest.

He shuddered to completion after only four thrusts. And it was a pleasure almost as perfect as the fucking finger and the stroking hand for Kurt to feel against his own body the effect that his submission had on his master. The power of Sebastian’s desire for him made everything, everything worth it. When Sebastian’s arms wrapped tight around his chest as he rode the aftershocks of yet another orgasm, Kurt knew that he would do anything, suffer any indignity, if this was his reward.


	8. Last Chance, Bitch

Kurt didn’t have very many hard limits. He’d found out early on that he loved playing around the edges, being surprised, being pushed. He didn’t believe in throwing up brick walls before he’d actually tried something and as long as safewords were respected, he was willing to try almost anything. So the process of negotiating a contract with Sebastian had been ridiculously easy, with one major exception: his clothes.

No one was going to tell Kurt Hummel what to wear. And although Sebastian didn’t have any interest in controlling that when it came to work or vanilla social events, he believed it was his right to dress Kurt when they went to the club, or in any BDSM context. Kurt had strongly disagreed. It had taken them two full days of give-and-take to finally reach a compromise they could both live with.

Sebastian was allowed to pick Kurt’s clothes for clubbing and events, but Kurt retained the right of absolute veto without risking punishment or having to safeword. He did not have the right to demand more clothes, however, if Sebastian wanted him bare. Exposing his submissive when and how he chose, Sebastian had successfully argued, was a fundamental part of dominating and escapable only by safeword. And, significantly as it turned out, Sebastian had retained all rights to decorate Kurt’s body.

Kurt had been sure Sebastian would take out his lack of clothing control via these “decorations.” He’d imagined clunky, heavy cuffs and chains, ugly things he would never actually choose to wear, things that would reflect in their unyielding weight the depth and breadth of Sebastian’s ownership. He should have known better. Because Sebastian missed nothing, and the way Kurt played with femininity in his wardrobe certainly didn’t escape him. Kurt was never sure whether that aspect of his clothing choices simply appealed to Sebastian, or whether his dominant had guessed that Kurt’s fondness for female jewelry went beyond the purely sartorial. Whichever it was, Sebastian embraced his right to decorate with almost obsessive enthusiasm. And everything was beautiful. Silver filigree cuffs, chains of tiny, delicate links, nipple clamps made out of actual vintage earrings . . . Kurt was pretty sure Sebastian had an entire fleet of BDSM-inclined Etsy jewelry makers on retainer. Sebastian not only reminded Kurt of the breathless combination of fear and excitement he’d felt in high school when he’d dared to flaunt an antique brooch or gold necklace, he increased those emotions exponentially, often literally draping Kurt until he felt like a harem boy in some ancient seraglio, like he should be dancing instead of walking. The beauty of it stirred him, the pure femininity humiliated him, and Sebastian always complicated it by making sure his female adornments highlighted Kurt’s obviously masculine anatomy. The whole enterprise pulled and twisted inside Kurt the way that everything Sebastian came up with did.

Which, among other more obvious reasons, was why Kurt’s cock was literally dancing up and down as he stood in the bedroom post-shower, with Sebastian – who was already dressed in jeans that hugged his ass like a glove and a soft white button-down that made him look even more handsome than usual – casting his critical eye up and down Kurt’s naked body.

“So many options,” Sebastian mused, “but I think I like you just like this tonight. I wouldn’t want to distract any attention from _this_.” He pressed his fingertips to the base of Kurt’s cock and ran them up the length of the shaft, pressing just hard enough when he reached the frenulum to make Kurt gasp. “It looks so dark and desperate,” he stepped closer, still pressing the sensitive spot just under the head, and cocked an eyebrow at Kurt, “that I don’t really think we need anything else, do you?”

“If you say so,” Kurt breathed. He clasped his hands tight against the small of his back, trying to distract himself from the overwhelming desire to fuck against Sebastian’s warm fingers.

“I’m glad we agree,” Sebastian smiled and tilted his head close, brushing their lips together as he wrapped his fingers around Kurt’s cock and gave it two glorious strokes then stopped, still gripping but not moving. Kurt moaned against Sebastian’s mouth.

“Besides,” Sebastian didn’t move away as he spoke, his lips brushed over Kurt’s with each enticing word, “anything we put on you would only have to come off before you do your dildo duty, wouldn’t it?”

“I supposed,” Kurt whispered. He was having trouble breathing and he couldn’t have said whether it was more from Sebastian’s teasing lips or his fingers. His mouth longed to be kissed, his cock to be stroked, and, even more disorienting for him, there was no pain anywhere. Even the pounding of his violently frustrated desire was all pleasure with Sebastian so close, touching him so gently.

“Although . . .” Sebastian pulled back and Kurt just managed to stop himself chasing after his mouth.

“Hmmm . . .” Sebastian’s mouth quirked and his brow wrinkled as if in careful contemplation. His fingers moved, tapping a distracted rhythm against the head of Kurt’s cock. Kurt whined; he couldn’t help it. His cock didn’t want to be petted, it wanted to be ravaged. But Sebastian delighted in dangling possibilities in front of him that would never come to fruition.

“I was going to wait until your birthday but . . .” For a third time Sebastian’s words trailed off.

“But?” Kurt prompted.

Sebastian’s eyes went dark, suddenly serious, all the teasing disappearing from his face. “But there is one thing I think I’d like you to wear tonight.”

The words were as strange as the intensity in Sebastian’s eyes. _I’d like_ was not something Sebastian ever said to him. Sebastian commanded. He rarely asked.

Kurt whined again when Sebastian stepped away completely, leaving him and his cock abandoned and bereft in the middle of the room. He watched as Sebastian went to the closet, rooted around on a shelf, and turned back with a dark purple box in his hands.

“Kneel,” he said, all command again, indecision gone.

Kurt dropped to his knees, as gracefully as he could with the unfamiliar weight of his cock pulling him forward.

“I was going to wait,” Sebastian repeated, “but as it turns out, I don’t want there to be any question who you belong to tonight.”

There was never any question of that, Kurt thought, but he kept silent as Sebastian came closer and stooped to hand him the box.

Kurt took it and carefully lifted the lid.

“Oh my God,” he gasped and pressed a hand to his mouth.

The collar was possibly the most beautiful thing Kurt had ever seen. Its base was supple black leather that Kurt could see would feel soft as clouds against his skin, but it was faced with bright silver filigree, invisibly attached to the leather, in a mosaic design made up of hundreds of tiny pieces that would flex and bend with the collar as it tightened around his neck. The pattern was random yet symmetrical, and Kurt could see tiny loops of silver strategically placed, he could only guess, as miniature attachment points. The overall effect was half modern, half Victorian, two things that shouldn’t go together as well as they did. It was a true work of art, simple yet ornate, subtle yet ostentatious. But more even than its beauty, its meaning overwhelmed Kurt and he raised moist eyes to Sebastian, still squatting in front of him.

“Like it?” Sebastian asked, too nonchalantly.

“I can’t believe that you . . .” Kurt stammered. “It’s amazing.”

“You can touch it, you know.”

Kurt lifted it out of the box. The metal was heavy but the leather was as supple as he’d expected it to be. It almost flowed over his fingers.

“Turn it over.”

Kurt obeyed, and found words embossed in flowing script on the inside of the black leather, hidden, secret, just for him.

_Sebastian’s Bitch._

“Sebastian,” was all Kurt could manage.

Sebastian held out a hand and Kurt surrendered the collar. He took it and stood up, moving around Kurt’s kneeling form until he was behind him, out of sight. But Kurt could hear him breathing, inhales and exhales that trembled in a subtle but very un-Sebastian way. Kurt set the box on the floor beside him and straightened his back, lifted his head in anticipation of Sebastian’s next move.

The collar draped loosely around his neck and it was heavy – so much heavier than it had felt in his hands and Kurt knew that had nothing to do with the actual weight of the materials at all. “Last chance, bitch,” Sebastian whispered hot against his ear. Kurt was still as a statue. He closed his eyes and held his breath. Only his cock moved, flexing gently with anticipation.

Finally the collar shifted as Sebastian threaded the end of the leather through the silver buckle and pulled it snug against Kurt’s throat. The collar – _his_ collar – sat high, loose enough to let him breathe but tight enough that he could never forget it was there. Kurt was sure he could feel the words imprinted on the inside burning themselves into his skin like a brand. Sebastian’s fingers lingered, circling Kurt’s throat just below the leather, and warm slick trickled from the head of Kurt’s cock and down over his shaft. Then Sebastian’s hands were gone, but only for an instant. Kurt heard him move, then felt those sensitive fingers again, on his jaw this time.

“Hey,” Sebastian said.

Kurt opened his eyes. Sebastian knelt in front of him, staring at him with an expression that was even heavier than the collar around his neck. He was so close, so avid, and everything around him seemed to Kurt to drift away into mist at the edges of his vision.

“Want to see?”

Kurt felt himself nod before he had a chance to actually decide if he wanted to see or not.

Sebastian pulled at his hands, which were still clasped tightly behind his back, and stood up, tugging Kurt along with him. He led him over to the floor-length mirror in the corner and slipped behind him, putting Kurt in the center of his own spotlight vision, with the rest of the world falling out of focus around him. Sebastian wrapped one arm around Kurt’s waist and the other around his chest and held him tight, because he always knew what Kurt needed.

It hurt to look at himself. Hurt in the good way and in the not so good way. He stood naked, adorned only by the beautiful collar and Sebastian’s arms, and while his desperation was clear in the turgid thrust of his too-big cock and the swing of his full balls, the blue eyes staring back at Kurt told a different story. They reflected acceptance and gratitude and – why was it so hard to admit it when he lived it every day? – deep, peaceful submission. No one would need to see the denied dick or the parted lips or even the elaborate collar to know Kurt belonged to Sebastian. It was written plain as daylight right there in his eyes. He leaned back into Sebastian’s arms and raised his gaze to Sebastian’s reflected eyes, full of just as much pride and possessiveness as Kurt’s own had been of surrender.

Sebastian’s hands moved then, turned him around, and his mouth found Kurt’s, one hand cradling his head and the other cupping his ass. He pulled Kurt’s body close, so that his naked cock shoved against Sebastian’s clothed one, and Kurt could feel how hard he was. He kissed back with everything he had, sucking Sebastian’s tongue into his mouth and pushing their bodies even tighter together. They kissed until both of them were moaning, Sebastian’s hand kneading at Kurt’s ass and Kurt’s arms wrapped around Sebastian’s neck. They kissed until the doorbell rang, once, twice, and finally an impatient fist rapped on the door.

“Coming!” Sebastian yelled, too close to Kurt’s face, startling him. But then he smiled a wicked, wicked smile and ran his fingers over the filigreed silver of Kurt’s collar.

“Showtime, bitch.”


	9. That's My Bitch

Kurt’s knees wobbled and he leaned against Sebastian, grateful for the strong arm around his waist leading him out into the living room. He struggled to master his unexpected nerves. It wasn’t like he’d never submitted for other people before. Sebastian liked to show him off in all sorts of ways. But this was the first time he’d done it here, in the apartment, and that combined with the weight of the new collar gripping his throat and the unfamiliar pull of his cock jutting out in front of him and dragging him off kilter left him groping for even a fraction of his usual control.

Sebastian led him to a spot next to their big granite coffee table and guided him down to his knees. Kurt’s eyes clung to his for reassurance. Another knock rang through the apartment.

“Jesus, a little patience!” Sebastian murmured under his breath. “Just a minute,” he called out louder.

Kurt forced his diaphragm to pull air into his lungs. It slid through his tight throat with a wheeze. Sebastian crouched down in front of him and gripped his chin in one hand. The other wrapped around his cock and squeezed.

“Who do you belong to?” he asked.

“You.” It came out breathy and thin. He hated it. Weakness had never had a place in his submission.

“So who’s the only person you have to worry about pleasing tonight?”

Sebastian’s eyes were full of challenge, and the certainty that Kurt was strong enough to meet that challenge. Gazing into them, Kurt felt the bands of tension around his chest loosen. He straightened his spine and lifted his chin out of Sebastian’s grasp. “You master,” he said, his voice firm.

“That’s my bitch,” Sebastian crooned. The hand on Kurt’s cock slid up and down again, and Sebastian trailed his thumb through the moisture oozing from the slit. Kurt wanted to close his eyes and fall into the pleasure – there’d been so much of it today, untempered by any kind of pain, such a rare gift – but he couldn’t bear to look away from the intensity in Sebastian’s eyes. So they remained locked in challenge and response as Sebastian stroked Kurt’s yearning body and Kurt offered his pleasure to his master until his vision began to blur and Sebastian’s lips tilted into a smile.

“You’re getting spoiled today, aren’t you bitch? I’m going to have to be extra mean to you to make up for it.”

And God how Kurt’s balls clenched and his insides twisted at that. “Yes master,” he said, lost now in all the right ways, and when Sebastian left him to go to the door Kurt’s cock writhed against his belly and he lowered his eyes in submission with only one desire in his head and heart – to keep that proud, hungry look in his master’s eyes all night long.

He missed the pleasantries at the door – he was still fixated on the memory of Sebastian’s touch – but he was immediately aware of the room filling with bodies, so many long legs and booted feet, and the warm smell of wet leather and male desire. It was the denial that did this to him. His own constant need tuned him to the sexual energy of anyone around him, like a radio set the frequency of lust. His submission drove him to serve that energy in any way it required. His earlier nerves were gone. This he knew. This he craved.

“There’s that beautiful cock I remember,” was the first thing Kurt heard as people milled in the living room, shedding coats. “See boys? I told you I’d found you an incredible reward.”

They crowded around him, Sebastian, the other dominant, and the two submissives he’d brought with him. Kurt didn’t have to look up to know they were all staring at his crotch. Their gazes grounded him, and he was suddenly grateful for his jutting cock, proud of it, proud of his need and the desire it inspired in his master’s guests. One of the submissives whimpered and someone chuckled in response. Kurt kept his eyes low. He didn’t care what any of them looked like. As they crowded around him Sebastian’s hand fell on the back of Kurt’s neck, fingering the buckle of the new collar. Kurt was grateful for it but he didn’t need it, not any more.

“It’s such a shame you keep it locked up all the time. It’s one thing to cage a poor micro-dick, but an organ like that should be on display!”

The master, Kurt thought, and his rough voice made Kurt shiver. He loved Sebastian’s drawling purr but a voice like that just filled his head with brutal possibilities.

Sebastian’s hand tightened on the collar. He blew a dismissive puff of air through his lips. “That’s the whole point of mastery, isn’t it? To take this thing,” his foot slipped between Kurt’s knees and he nudged at Kurt’s balls with the toe of his shoe, “that he should be so proud of, and lock it away. Make it irrelevant. So no one ever knows that he’s got a dick that could bring men to their knees. Unless I decide to let them know.”

Someone whimpered again. Kurt’s head was starting to spin. There was no doubt that Sebastian knew how to use his words.

“Well there’s nothing wrong with a submissive feeling a little pride,” the other man said. There was something lecturing in his tone that set Kurt’s teeth on edge.

“He feels what I want him to feel.  And the only pride he needs comes from the fact that I allow him to serve me.”

“Whatever works for you,” the man said. He didn’t sound like he was ceding the point.

“Exactly,” Sebastian said. “The bathroom’s down the hall if you want to get your boys ready.”

Three men clumped out of the room. They made far too much noise to Kurt’s heightened senses. As soon as they were gone Sebastian was down again, eye level with Kurt and lifting his head.

“Where did you find him?” Kurt asked.

“Don’t think I didn’t see how turned you were. If I were you the only thing I’d be worrying about right now is how to soothe my jealous anger.”

All the growly doms in the world couldn’t compare with Sebastian when he said things like that. Kurt let his eyes go wide and soft. “Yes master. Whatever you say master.”

“That’s a start, bitch.”

“Shit! Sebastian!”

Kurt glanced toward the hallway before he remembered not to, just long enough to catch an impression of their visitor, wide eyes and short dark hair.

“Hmmm?” Sebastian didn’t bother looking away from Kurt.

“You didn’t tell me you had a cat. My alpha’s seriously allergic.”

 _Alpha?_ Sebastian mouthed it at Kurt silently and rolled his eyes before climbing to his feet. “We don’t have a cat.”

“Then why do you have a scratching post?”

Sebastian laughed and Kurt felt heat flood his face. Of course he’d seen the post at the end of the hall. And there was probably no chance Sebastian wasn’t going to tell him what it was there for.

“That’s for Kurt.”

Nope, no chance at all.

“For Kurt?”

“Sometimes, when he’s been very good and I’m feeling very generous I take off his cage and let him hump it for a while. As a reward.”

Kurt’s cheeks burned with humiliation. He was sure the other dom was imagining him on his knees, desperately rutting into the rough surface, moaning over it like a slut in heat. He hated the post so much, except when he was fucking against it. Then he never wanted to stop.

“Must be a bitch to clean,” the man said.

Kurt was as confused by that as Sebastian sounded. “To clean? What . . . oh! No, I don’t let him come on it. He just fucks it until he gets too close and has to stop.”

“How is that a reward?”

Again, if Sebastian’s tone was anything to go by, he and Kurt were having the same reaction. He spoke slowly, like he was lecturing a toddler. “He gets to stimulate himself, in his own way, at his own speed, without any pain . . . well, without too much pain. He has been known to get enthusiastic enough to leave some rug burns.”

“But when does he get to come?”

Kurt could tell Sebastian was losing patience with the questions. “I don’t believe in using orgasms as a reward.”

It was a bold statement, considering the man was here specifically to reward his subs with orgasms.

“You can’t keep a sub motivated that way. He’ll burn out.”

“Says who?” Sebastian was definitely losing patience.

“You have to give them an incentive. Why would someone submit with no hope of reward?”

“This may come as a shock to you, but Kurt submits because he’s submissive. His nature demands it. And he’s grateful that I allow him to submit to me. That’s his reward. Isn’t it Kurt?”

The question surprised Kurt, but not so much that he couldn’t answer quickly, “Yes master.”

“You’re young,” the man’s voice took on a patronizing tone that made Kurt wonder how he’d ever found it attractive. “You don’t have the experience to know that you’re setting him up for failure. He won’t thank you for it.”

The man disappeared back into the hall, effectively giving himself the last word.

Sebastian dropped hard to the floor in front of Kurt once again.

“Thank you master,” Kurt said, partly to soothe Sebastian and partly because he needed to show his master how wrong the other dom was. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Sebastian smiled. It was the evil smile and it made Kurt shudder far harder than the gruff voice had done, before. He wrapped his long fingers around Kurt’s shaft again and squeezed, _hard_ , until Kurt was whimpering and fighting the urge to fuck into the painful constriction.

“I swear to God, bitch, if you show me up in front of this idiot and his twink harem I will never forgive you. I’ll beat _this_ ,” his vise-grip tightened, “until it’s so swollen it can’t fit in that cage then I’ll shove it in anyhow and throw away the key and it will never see the light of day again. You’ll forget that your body is even capable of orgasming. Are we clear on that?”

Kurt was moaning too hard to answer.


	10. Told You, Bitch

Sebastian had acquired the granite coffee table before he’d acquired Kurt, so it always surprised Kurt that it seemed so perfectly sized to his own body. It probably shouldn’t have surprised him. Sebastian must have a type, and must have enjoyed laying that type out on the stone slab long before Kurt came along, but Kurt didn’t like to think too much about that. So he went on being surprised.

The stone was always slightly cold, no matter how warm the room was, and supported Kurt’s body from the top of his head to just shy of the bend in his knees. It felt hard and cool against his naked skin and never failed to evoke that foundational submissive teenage fantasy of being laid out on an altar, a bound and helpless offering for a lustful deity who would take his pleasure doing unspeakably erotic things to his defenseless sacrifice. And it was oh so easy to imagine Sebastian as a gorgeous trickster god descending from on high to dole out pleasure and torment. He loved to shackle Kurt’s limbs to the four legs of the table, blindfold him, and free his cock from its prison for a night of television and teasing. Hours of squirming and gasping under Sebastian’s nimble fingers, trying not to moan too loudly – drowning out the television would earn him a sharp slap to the balls or the swollen head of his cock in punishment – and Kurt really needed to stop thinking about this when his three-month’s starved dick was about to fuck  _two_  eager submissives without (he hoped) spilling.

He stared up at the ceiling and wished they had tiles. Maybe counting them would distract him from what was to come.

Sebastian didn’t use cuffs tonight. He placed Kurt’s hands and feet where he wanted them on the floor and ran a hand up Kurt’s body, along his thigh and over his chest. He avoided his dick but it didn’t matter. Sebastian’s touch made him burn no matter where it landed.

“I’ll be right back, don’t move,” Sebastian said, and he was gone.

Kurt could hear the voices of their guests coming from the back of the apartment. Still in the bathroom, probably stretching and lubing each other in preparation for his cock –  _no, don’t think about that, think about . . . buttons! Yes, buttons for the gray morning coat, his intern had picked up samples on Thursday and he still hadn’t decided –_ then Sebastian’s hand was on him again, making it impossible to not think about what was about to happen.

Sebastian’s hands were moving around his dick and Kurt lifted his head to see those long fingers roll a condom down his shaft. He sighed, never so grateful for the necessity of safe sex. Sebastian flashed him the wicked smile that always made his insides melt and held up a second foil packet, waving it before Kurt’s eyes.

“You can’t be too careful,” he said, and winked as he tore open the packet. “Don’t say I never did anything nice for you.”

“Oh, god, thank you,” Kurt breathed as the second condom rolled down over the first.

Their guests made too much noise coming out of the bathroom and Kurt’s breath caught in his throat. Torn between closing his eyes and keeping them open, he somehow ended up with one of each, until Sebastian’s chuckle helped him steel himself to meet his fate head-on. From his position there was no way to lower his eyes so for the first time he got a good look at the three men who’d come to use him.

The submissives were naked now, and they were beautiful. Kurt understood why Sebastian had chosen this threesome despite the patronizing dominant. They were very much Sebastian’s type. Tall and lean, with beautifully sculpted wiry muscles shifting under their skin as they moved. Both had shaved heads – not a surprise considering the old-school style of the dom – and their hands were now cuffed behind their backs, which threw their biceps and pecs into sharp relief. They moved to the end of the coffee table and both dropped to their knees at Kurt’s feet in perfect synchronicity. Show offs.

The dominant, on the other hand, was immediately and so obviously  _not_  Kurt’s type that Kurt had to exercise some serious self-control to keep from belting out an elated high g. Maybe there were some chinks in Sebastian’s supercilious armor after all.

He was an older man, dressed in head-to-toe leather, right out of Central Casting or the world’s most cliché 1950s gay bar. Kurt understood the tradition behind it, and he wanted to be able to support it, he really did, but his fashion sense wouldn’t let him. He’d seen maybe five men in his life who could pull off that look and none of them were this guy. He was a little too old and a little too thick around the middle and though he was clearly trying to look nonchalant, the twitching of his shoulders and tensing of his hips betrayed his discomfort to Kurt’s expert eye, if nobody else’s. But aside from that his hubris was firmly in place.

“Well this is perfect,” the man said, casting his critical eye over Kurt laid out on the table. “My boys’ll get a good workout and a good fucking. What do you think, boys? You ready to take a ride?”

“Yes, Daddy,” the boy on the right said.

“But we’d always rather ride you, Daddy,” the one on the left piped in, shooting a glare at the other.

“Oh, so you’d rather have me fuck you and  _not_  come?”

This time the boy on the right glared at the boy on the left. “We only want whatever will please you, Daddy.”

“Such good boys,” Sebastian drawled. Kurt had to stifle a smirk.

“Alright Alpha, get your ass up there. I’m dying to see whether this boy can manage to hold his load long enough for both of you to get a ride. Maybe we should put some money on it.”

“I don’t think so,” Sebastian said. “This isn’t really about you and me, is it? You want to reward your subs. I want to challenge mine. There’s no competition here. Kurt obeys me or he doesn’t. Either way, that’s between him and me.” His hand dropped to Kurt’s head and carded through his hair, as if to illustrate the difference between Kurt and the submissives at his feet. His other hand gripped Kurt’s penis, fingers tight around the base, and held it upright, ready to serve.

The boy on the left stood up and straddled the table – his legs were just long enough to accomplish it – facing his master and away from Kurt. His cuffed hands had just enough give that he could grab and spread his ass cheeks, which exposed his stretched and lubed hole for Sebastian to aim Kurt’s cock at. The boy lowered himself into a squat and Kurt watched for as long as he could but at the last moment he had to close his eyes. He felt rather than saw the blunt head of his cock press against the resistance of the boy’s sphincter once, twice, then on the third press slip inside.

Thank god and Sebastian for the double condom.

Kurt’s fingers grappled vainly for something to hold but there was only bare floor under his hands. The squeeze on the head of his cock was so strong and so hot it stole the breath from his body, which was good because otherwise he might have moaned and tonight he was just a sex toy. Sebastian had been very clear about his role. Sex toys didn’t moan. Dildoes didn’t writhe and gasp and beg for mercy. But mercy was what he needed because he was already seeing stars and barely an inch of him was actually inside the boy’s ass.

The squat must have made it impossible to relax his muscles but the boy was clearly not going to let that stop him. He pressed himself down until Kurt’s cock pushed through the second sphincter and then it was one long, smooth, eye-crossing slide and he was sitting in Kurt’s lap, ass full to bursting with Kurt’s throbbing and long-starved cock.

How could he have forgotten this? The boy’s body held him like a lover in a burning, ardent embrace. Nothing Sebastian had done to him – not with his hand or, on those rare occasions, with his mouth – had ever felt like this. His cock picked up every tiny twitch and flex of the ass that hugged it, despite the two condoms Sebastian had allowed him. Pleasure rippled out from where he and the boy were united and rolled gently as a spring breeze through Kurt’s body. He wanted the boy to move; he was desperate for it and he feared it but he knew he had no say in the matter.

“How does it feel?” the leather dom asked.

“So good, Daddy,” the boy groaned. “It’s so deep. It’s amazing.”

“Well go on, ride it. Give him a hand, boy.”

The boy’s gasp muffled Kurt’s as the muscles around his cock spasmed tight. He opened his eyes long enough to see the second sub kneeling between his feet, sucking the alpha’s cock down into his eager mouth. The three of them, dom and both subs, stared at each other, completely oblivious to Kurt shuddering at the other end of the cock in question. It was just as Sebastian had said – he was nothing more than a toy.

Then the boy rose from his lap, dragging that pressure up the length of Kurt’s cock, and Kurt had to close his eyes again and hold on for dear life as he dropped down again with a sigh.

Oh, it burned, it burned and he ached and there was so much pleasure, so intense, only a few strokes in and his balls were tightening with the familiar pressure. It had been too long – too many months of Sebastian’s patented formula for keeping his bitch on the horniest of hair triggers; he tried to think about buttons, about sketches, about grass growing or paint drying but it was no use. The boy was bucking up and down with abandon now, his moans merging with the slurping sucks of his partner working  _his_  cock, and Kurt could feel sweat trickling down his ass and the back of his neck and tears moistening his cheeks because he knew he couldn’t do it. He could be super-human and he wouldn’t be able to withstand the relentless pull and slide of that hot, glorious ass.

“Oh, fuck yeah. Right there, fuck . . .”

Then he remembered.

_Oh, fuck yeah, Kurt, right there, don’t stop . . ._

He remembered the last time he’d been inside someone’s ass. How could he have forgotten? Freddy someone, a boy he’d taken home from a party his senior year of college, when he always seemed to be searching for something, something  _more,_ and sex was hot but never quite enough. He’d pounded into Freddy’s ass and closed his eyes and imagined, as he always did, a tall, strong stranger whispering in his ear.  _That’s it boy. You belong to me now. You fuck who I say. You come if I say. And if I want to make you wait you will fuck this slut blind and not spill a drop, you hear me?_ He always came hardest when he gave in to the fantasy. But always with a twinge of despair that he might never find that man who could give him what he wanted; who could maybe even make it okay to want it in the first place.

Sebastian’s hand was still on the top of his head and Kurt pressed into it, trying to nuzzle. As if he could read Kurt’s mind Sebastian slid it around to cup his cheek, fingers pressing tight against his jawbone in silent acknowledgement. And everything was alright again.

Oh, the boy was still pistoning up and down like his life depended on it, moaning loud enough to wake the dead, but Kurt had found his balance on the precarious tightrope of his control. He stopped fighting the pleasure and let it take him, until his whole body was suffused in gorgeous, pounding sensation. He embraced the unbearable frustration of knowing that he couldn’t come, he wouldn’t come, not until Sebastian chose to grant him release, and the gentle fingers wiping tears from his cheeks held him in check as effectively as if they were clenched around the base of his cock. He was only an offering, a sacrifice to the will of the wicked, wonderful god who held his very existence in the palm of his hand.

He felt the boy come. Muscles squeezed with agonizing power and Kurt stiffened against the need to cry out the ecstasy that was not, was never, his. A barely-there curl of fingers around his throat was all he needed to stopper it safely in his chest. As the enveloping heat slid up and off his cock, and it flopped hard against his stomach and danced its frustration, Kurt shivered, cold with sweat, damp with tears. He could hear the other dominant murmuring to his panting sub. He opened his eyes to meet Sebastian’s so-dark gaze.

He had to swallow hard before he could speak. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Sebastian smiled. “Told you, bitch,” he said, too low for the threesome cuddled together at the end of the table to hear. “Didn’t I say you’d be grateful for that milking?”

Yeah. That too.


	11. Not Easy Being My Bitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't miss that I've added a warning for a teensy bit of blink-and-you'll-miss-it breathplay . . .
> 
> This chapter was fun!

The second sub’s ride was both easier and more difficult for Kurt to endure. Easier because he’d found his equilibrium now, he knew what to expect, and with Sebastian’s hand on his face and Sebastian’s measured breathing in his ear he had exactly what he needed to ground him in submission and obedience. Harder because, having found that equilibrium and obedience, Kurt was free to wallow in the sensations the boy was inflicting on his eager body.

The first sub had been all desperate driving to climax, pistoning on Kurt’s dick with absolute single-minded focus on his goal. The second was more of a connoisseur, Kurt could tell that immediately. For the alpha the cock in his ass was a means to an end, but for this boy it seemed to be as much the point as his eventual orgasm. His slides were long and slow, accompanied by the hottest whine-moans Kurt thought he’d ever heard. Each downstroke sent a wave of gasping ecstasy outward from Kurt’s core, through the twisting pathways of his nervous system all the way to the tips of his finger and toes and the roots of his hair. And each upstroke pulled it back, rushing to collect with unendurable pressure deep in his balls. He was like a star, exploding into supernova then collapsing into singularity with every slow push/pull slide of the boy’s hot ass. Tears continued to trickle down his cheeks. They were tears born of the incomprehensible pleasure of the moment and the awareness of the agony of frustration that was yet to come. When the boy finally shuddered to a sobbing climax, Kurt made his second unauthorized sound of the evening: a tiny sob of his own, because now he was going to have to find a way to survive without the orgasm his body screamed for.

He didn’t remember anything after his dick fell hard on his belly, abandoned in its extremis to suffer without satisfaction. He was pretty sure, though, that no one paid him the slightest attention as their guests made small talk with Sebastian, got cleaned up and dressed, and eventually left. He was only the sex toy, discarded now that he’d served his purpose.

He was aware of the door closing, then Sebastian’s voice.

“Up, bitch.”

He managed to roll to one side, wondering if his shaking legs would even hold his weight, but before he could find out hands were on him, pulling him to his feet. He was spun around so fast his head rocked on his neck and shoved up against the door with a thump. Sebastian’s mouth attached to his like a starving creature, devouring his lips, his tongue, pushing deep like he was trying to become part of Kurt’s own body. One hand slipped under the metal collar at the back of Kurt’s neck and the other tightened around his waist, pulling their bodies tight together. Kurt surrendered to it all, to the mouth and the hands and Sebastian’s naked desire. He wrapped his own arms around Sebastian’s neck and held on for dear life.

“Jesus Christ you were hot,” Sebastian breathed against Kurt’s ear before he attached himself to Kurt’s neck and sucked, hard, so hard Kurt whimpered with the pain even as he bared his neck to it. His stiff, aching cock – bare now, where had the condoms gone? – was trapped between his own belly and the rough texture of Sebastian’s jeans. It was only with superhuman effort that he kept himself from rutting against his master, and when Sebastian shoved his own dick forward to thrust against him, Kurt cried out loud.

“Stop, please, I’m going to come, please stop,” he gasped. He didn’t move to push Sebastian away. He knew he’d be punished for that. He could only hope his voice would be enough.

Sebastian, thank fuck, stepped back and took his hands away, leaving Kurt’s to fall to his sides. He stared at Kurt through narrowed eyes, taking him in, and Kurt got his first good look at Sebastian since their adventure had begun.

His cock bulged through his jeans, his eyes were black with desire, and they twinkled, as he watched Kurt try to breathe, which just completed the trickster god image Kurt had had before. There was danger in that twinkle, but it was familiar danger and Kurt hardly blinked when Sebastian dropped to his knees, putting his pretty mouth just inches from Kurt’s burning cock. As they both watched, a droplet of precome appeared in the slit and dripped over to roll slowly down his shaft.

“You were so good tonight,” Sebastian said, staring at that drip. “I suppose you deserve a reward.” His eyes flickered up to meet Kurt’s and he smirked and Kurt knew he should close his eyes because seeing _and_ feeling was certainly going to be too much for him, but he couldn’t bear the thought of not watching. Sebastian’s tongue slipped out between those lips and moved closer until just the very tip touched Kurt’s shaft. He dragged a single point of fire slowly upward, licking along the path of the drip, up over the swollen head until he dipped into the slit. Kurt did close his eyes then. His throat squeezed shut and he couldn’t breathe, the single tiny sensation of that soft, wet tongue flickering as light as a hummingbird’s wing made him ache with longing more than all the asses of all the beautiful boys in the world ever could. He would come, if Sebastian kept it up, but this time he had to trust Sebastian to know and stop. Forcing words through the constriction of his chest was impossible.

“There. That’s one you don’t have to clean up on your own.”

Kurt opened his eyes to find Sebastian’s face back at eye level, still smirking in the way that meant this was so not over yet.

“Thank you, master,” Kurt breathed.

Sebastian wrapped one long-fingered hand around Kurt’s cock, loose, hardly enough to feel. Kurt whimpered a long, high sound but he managed to find the strength not to thrust.

“You’re so close,” Sebastian marveled. “How many strokes do you think it would take? Two? Only one?”

Kurt could only whine in response. The effort of forcing his body to obey left him trembling, fingers clawing at the door to try to hold on.

Sebastian, always pushing, always asking Kurt to endure more and more and ever more, nibbled at Kurt’s earlobe then whispered against it. “I think it would just take one. Imagine how intense it would be, after all this time. All I have to do is close my fingers and pull. You were so good. You deserve it, don’t you?”

Even in his pleasure drunk state Kurt knew better than to answer that. He tried so hard not to hope. Sebastian wasn’t going to let him come. Sebastian never let him come.

“You know you’re not going to get to, right?” Sebastian said, as if he was right inside Kurt’s head, and because he was evil he closed his fingers tighter around Kurt’s cock as he said it. “Bitches don’t get to come, do they? Bitches have to stay horny and desperate _all the fucking time._ ”

The words, the words whispered in Kurt’s ear like evil fantasy, wrung his insides like a twisted dishrag and Kurt sobbed and gasped but he didn’t move; he kept still and obedient under Sebastian’s torturing hand.

“But you do deserve a reward,” Sebastian said, pulling back from Kurt’s ear so he could smirk at him again. “How about I finally give you that fucking you’ve been begging me for all day?”

Relief flooded Kurt’s body and he sagged against the door. Fucking. Fucking was what he needed. Fucking wiped his brain blank and soothed his body as nothing else ever could. When Sebastian fucked him he could forget, just for a little while, the need that always ate at his guts. Sebastian fucking him was pure pleasure – the only pure pleasure he was regularly allowed. The hot slide of Sebastian’s cock healed every hurt and Kurt craved it constantly, even if he knew it would ultimately leave him burning.

“Please,” he begged. “God, please fuck me.”

Sebastian laughed. “That’s my good bitch. But first we need to take care of this.” Fingers tightened again around Kurt’s cock and he shuddered against the door, but then they disappeared as Sebastian stepped away, turned toward the coffee table, and came back with an object in his hand.

Kurt didn’t know when Sebastian had gotten the ice pack, but he moaned and cringed back as far as the door would let him. It wasn’t like this had never happened before. Ice was Sebastian’s favorite way to force Kurt’s cock back to flaccid so he could lock it up after a long torture session. But Kurt hated it, he hated the pain and the violent cold and the way it forced the outward push of throbbing desire deep, deep into his belly where it burned like acid, in such vivid contrast to his limp, cold genitals. Most of all, he hated how much he wanted Sebastian to do it to him anyhow. He almost shook his head as Sebastian brought it close to him, almost begged for mercy, and only the knowledge that the punishment for such flagrant disobedience would certainly include him _not_ getting fucked kept him silent and still.

Sebastian, who noticed everything, smiled in imitation compassion. “Poor thing. It’s not easy being my bitch, is it?”

A shake of his head was all the answer Kurt could manage.

“And that’s a good thing. You know why?”

Another shake.

Sebastian’s face came close, his expression suddenly fierce, predatory and intense. “Because if it was easy,” he hissed, “it would be _beneath_ you.” His lips pressed hard against Kurt’s, sucking the cry out of his chest as the ice slammed into his so-sensitive cock.

Kurt’s legs gave out but Sebastian’s body held him up against the door under the burning ice until his cock had wilted to Sebastian’s satisfaction. He heard the pack hit the floor with a crack then Sebastian’s arms were around him, holding him tight as he shuddered and sobbed for breath. He let himself cling for a moment, but as soon as he was sure his legs would hold him he pulled himself upright. He hated to show weakness.

Sebastian beamed at him when he stood on his own; his smile radiated pride and that, as it always did, healed so much inside of Kurt. He laid a hand on Kurt’s chest, just between his nipples, and pushed him gently back until he was up against the door again. Then his hand wandered upward until it was wrapped around Kurt’s neck, just above his collar, pushing his chin high, holding but not pressing. Threatening, but not restricting.

“That’s another thing I should punish you for, bitch.”

“Another?” Kurt gasped against the hand.

“Well, I do still owe you one for distracting me when I was studying earlier, don’t I?”

It was so unfair, Kurt thought. And perfect. “Yes,” Kurt breathed.

“And now you’ve earned another. You need to be punished because you’ve ruined me for any other sub, you know that right?”

Kurt didn’t answer. Sebastian still wasn’t cutting off his breath, but the possibility and Sebastian’s words were making him light-headed anyhow.

“Who else could take half of what I dish out to you?” Sebastian asked, still with that fierce look that made Kurt want to crawl for him. “You think the twink twins could do it?”

“They wouldn’t last five minutes,” Kurt managed to gasp.

Sebastian grinned. “I was going to give them ten, but I’ll have to defer to your superior experience in these matters.” His fingers stroked the skin of Kurt’s neck, riding it as Kurt panted. “Seriously, though, I’m going to have to punish you. I’m stuck with you now. And you’re stuck with me, and you only have yourself to blame. You’re too perfect. Who else could possibly be good enough for me after you?” He leaned close, his lips touched Kurt’s cheek and his fingers finally tightened, silencing the harsh panting. “It’s only you now, bitch,” he said hot against Kurt’s cheek. “No one else could be what you are to me. It’s only ever going to be you.”

His fingers released and Kurt went down, physically and in every other way. He fell to his knees, his balls cringed away from the ice pack on the floor between his legs but he didn’t care anymore, he forced them down, forced himself down until he was mouthing at Sebastian’s bare feet, inhaling, tasting, moaning with abandon, worshipping the only man who’d ever been able to take him to this place that so terrified and enthralled him, that he craved as much as he craved the touch of the man whose feet he groveled at. Pain and need and desire were nothing now. Only Sebastian mattered, and his own perfection.

Sebastian let him wallow in his subjugation just as long as he needed to and then was there at the exact right moment, crouched down to Kurt’s level, pulling him up by the shoulders. Kurt whined a protest but he let himself be lifted and met Sebastian’s beautiful eyes, radiating gratitude that he saw reflected in his master for a tiny moment before Sebastian flashed that devious smirk again.

“Bedroom, bitch.”


	12. Fuck, Bitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is the last chapter in this story arc. But this 'verse will continue! I'm going to start working on the next story in the series right away. I LOVE playing with these two and I'm not going to stop any time soon. Thank you all so much for reading and responding!!

“Don’t move.”

Sebastian really didn’t need to say it. Kurt was pretty sure he couldn’t have moved if he’d wanted to. He was too far under the spell of Sebastian’s dominance and his own desire to do anything but obey, wholeheartedly, and it was already one of Sebastian’s standing rules that Kurt must never flinch away from punishment. He could moan, scream, tremble, whatever he needed to do to process the pain Sebastian inflicted with such delight. But no matter how intense the torment, Sebastian expected Kurt to offer himself up in whatever position his master chose. To twist away or beg for mercy would only incur greater punishment. Sebastian demanded no less from Kurt than absolute control.

And as he lay draped across the bed, feet on the floor, torso on the mattress, back arched up in wanton display, holding his ass cheeks open as Sebastian had instructed, Kurt had fallen so deeply into his submissive abyss that Sebastian’s demands became his own. He belonged to Sebastian, to do with as he chose. He deserved punishment because Sebastian said he did and he would glory in the acceptance of pain and debasement just as much as Sebastian gloried in the infliction. In this place, they were opposite sides of a mirror, reflecting each other in reverse. Whipping Kurt’s hole was an intense punishment even for Sebastian, but Kurt would rather die than move.

Still, he was grateful Sebastian said it. The words sent ripples of heat shivering across the surface of Kurt’s skin and his cold, soft cock, safely back in the cage where it belonged, dribbled anew.

Something brushed across Kurt’s hole, stiff leather, and he whined and pulled at his ass cheeks, opening himself even wider.

“Why am I punishing you?” Sebastian asked, intoning it like a priestly litany.

Kurt had to turn his head so the comforter wouldn’t muffle his words. “Because I distracted you today when you needed to work.”

“And?”

“And because I’m too perfect and no one else will ever be good enough for you now.” Kurt’s belly fluttered with need as he said it.

The leather flicked gently, just a warning. “Very good. I think three – for each infraction.”

Six. Sebastian didn’t beat Kurt’s hole very often and six was the most he’d ever taken at one time. There was no gentle warm-up when Sebastian punished. Kurt knew those six lashes would be torture. A shudder danced down his body.

“And then I’m going to fuck you right through this mattress. I imagine it’s going hurt like fuck after the whip.” He stroked a slick finger over Kurt’s hole, setting it fluttering while Kurt whined into the blanket. “Maybe I should take it easy on you this time and wait to fuck you till tomorrow.”

Kurt was absolutely certain Sebastian was only teasing. But he wasn’t taking any chances. “No, please,” he begged.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me,” Kurt moaned. Sebastian’s finger pressed, the tip slipping mere millimeters inside Kurt. It was just a tease, but it set nerve endings firing all through his body. “Oh God, please, please . . .”

“Relax, bitch. You’ll get your reward.”

Sebastian dragged his hand down Kurt’s spine in a slow and firm caress. Kurt heard himself hum in its wake. Then he stepped away, breaking contact, getting distance, Kurt knew, so he could swing his arm at full force.

“Ready, bitch?”

“Please . . .” Kurt breathed. He wasn’t sure if the _please_ was for the punishment or if he was still begging to be fucked. Maybe both. His heart was racing with anticipation. He turned his face back into the bed and bit down on the blanket.

_Thwack!_

Kurt always heard the sound of the first stroke before he felt the pain. But Sebastian hit with devastating accuracy and pitiless strength and so the pain followed quickly behind, exploding fire against Kurt’s tender hole. He screamed, but he pressed his lips closed around the blanket and kept it in his chest as the reverberations of pain rocketed through his frame. The second lash followed close on the first, and then the third, all flaying his hole with the full strength of Sebastian’s practiced arm. He swallowed those screams too, clutching desperately at his ass to force himself open to Sebastian against every instinct he possessed.

After the third lash a hand pressed firm in the center of his back and Kurt’s body collapsed into the mattress, suddenly loose. His hands softened against his ass, his head turned and his mouth opened, letting the last remnants of his scream out in a low, gasping moan.

“Perfect, bitch, perfect,” Sebastian murmured. His hand pushed Kurt down, grounding him. Kurt’s head floated somewhere above his body, which was strange, since he could feel the texture of the blanket against his cheek. He was stretching, like Alice in the looking glass. The heavy burn in his ass throbbed outward and he wondered, almost idly, certainly with no real sense of concern, how he was going to survive the rest of his punishment.

“Ready for more?” Sebastian said at some point.

“Hmmmm,” was all Kurt could manage. But he pulled with his fingers and arched his back, offering his ass as he had before.

That must have been assent enough for Sebastian. He stepped away and the strap cracked again, then licked like fire against Kurt’s tortured hole. Kurt’s body jerked and writhed but held its place as the fifth lash fell and finally the sixth, most vicious of all, slashing at Kurt’s hole like an exclamation point on Sebastian’s punishing sentence. Kurt couldn’t keep it inside; he cried out loud then cried again when slippery fingers – how many he couldn’t tell, it was all a haze of pain and heat – slid without warning deep into his burning ass. It hurt – it was unbearable – but Kurt didn’t care. Sebastian was inside him and he arched his back even higher and pushed himself deeper on the probing fingers.

“Please, please, please,” he chanted as Sebastian stretched him just enough but no more. For one horrifying moment the fingers left him, Sebastian left him, but then something else pushed against his hole, something thick and blunt and _alive_ and Kurt cried out as it breached him, cried long and low as it sank deeper and deeper into the core of his body, a cry that broke into a sob when Sebastian bottomed out and held himself still, buried as far as he could go inside his perfect bitch.

Kurt was still holding his ass open but Sebastian grabbed his wrists now and held them pinned in the small of his back. The he leaned forward – the change in angle and pressure made Kurt gasp – and whispered in Kurt’s ear.

“Here we go, bitch.”

Sebastian pulled back, back, until only the head of his cock was left inside Kurt, paused just long enough to make Kurt squirm under him, then fucked forward hard, slamming in, back, in, back, with the same devastating strength and pinpoint accuracy he’d had with the strap. Pain blossomed everywhere, unbearable, but Kurt didn’t care. Finally, finally Sebastian was using him properly and each slamming stroke burned through him and washed him clean, searing away thought and need and leaving only Kurt, vessel, Sebastian’s bitch.

As always, Sebastian fucked silently, but Kurt sounded for him, moaning, gasping, whimpering with the force of Sebastian’s passion. He could feel everything – the desire Sebastian had felt watching him service the two twinks, the adoration for the boy who groveled, kissing his feet, and certainly his sadistic delight in the pain Kurt took so beautifully. It was like they were one being – Kurt experienced all of Sebastian’s emotions and met them with his own, his gratitude for Sebastian’s understanding and his abject submission to Sebastian’s control.

It went on and on – Sebastian had already come twice that day after all – but Kurt wanted it to last forever. There could never be enough of it. Sebastian’s ragged breathing pushed Kurt even higher and his cock finally began to warm and stir. “Yes,” he somehow found the breath to whisper when the unyielding steel bars forced his erection back, and he spread his legs wider, arched his back harder, and gave himself to be used.

“Fuck, bitch,” Sebastian groaned, and his approval made Kurt’s balls clench hard with desire. Thrust after thrust battered Kurt’s ass, until everything faded. The bed disappeared, the room was no more, his own cries were muffled and far away; the only thing that mattered in the whole world was the cock taking its pleasure in his stretched and aching body. It was his master, his ruler, his god, and he would give it everything he had, forever.

Of course, it couldn’t actually last forever. Eventually Sebastian stilled and shuddered and came, accompanied by Kurt’s desperate cry of second-hand ecstasy.

Then he floated.

Nothing hurt, nothing burned, nothing needed. Sebastian’s cock had driven him past all those things, into a place Kurt only ever found beyond the boundaries of what he thought he could endure. This was his own release – this beautiful, quiet place where there was never any guilt or shame, only the knowledge of how perfectly he’d fulfilled his purpose. He was lost in the best way; nothing bad could find him. He was safe.

Eventually the world came back enough for him to realize that he was lying on the bed under the soft blanket and Sebastian was spooned around him, holding him tight across the chest. His ass was empty and Sebastian’s cock pressed soft and sticky against his lower back.

“Fuck, bitch,” Sebastian said again, this time with laughter underneath it instead of passion.

Kurt just hummed, and burrowed back into the nest of Sebastian’s body.

“Want some water?”

Kurt shook his head. He somewhere found the strength to lift one arm and clasp Sebastian’s hand where it rested on his chest, holding him in place.

Sebastian laughed again; his breath tickled Kurt’s ear. “Okay, I guess you’ve earned a cuddle and a good rest. You were pretty amazing tonight.”

Kurt wanted to point out that it was Sebastian who had initiated the cuddling, but he was still too far away to make his voice work.

He was going to hurt so much tomorrow. Pain and need would be back full-force, he knew. He would once again struggle with Sebastian’s challenges and rules and the frustrated desire that curled like a chained beast in his guts. But tonight all he could feel was the deep peace inside of him and his gratitude for man wrapped around his body, who somehow instinctively understood all of his desires and had the strength to make them real.

Sebastian’s lips touched the back of Kurt’s head in a kiss so light he barely felt it.

“Night, bitch.”


End file.
